


I'll Let You Set The Pace

by RainbowRain17



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Mentions of the Other Losers, NYU - Freeform, Open Relationships, Reddie, Smut, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRain17/pseuds/RainbowRain17
Summary: Eddie and Richie are in an open relationship. Eddie is a fool in love while Richie is a mess who is afraid of commitment.





	1. Eddie

It’s the middle of July in New York, where summer is at its peak and Eddie feels the intensity of the heat in the closed room. His naked back is pressed flush on the bed, sweats forming in between the mattress and his bare skin, and when his boyfriend Richie lifts him with arms under his shoulders, the thin cotton sheet sticks on his back like an askew cape. Richie arranges his compliant limbs until his back is leaning against the headboard, and then parted his bended legs wide. Eddie doesn’t have any time to address his embarrassment at being that exposed as his boyfriend takes him in his mouth. His hips automatically bucks up from the delicious, warm and slick sensation enveloping the most sensitive part of his body and his primal instinct is to chase the sensation down with urgent thrusts upward. Richie presses his hand over his stomach, a clear warning for him to stop moving, to trust him to do his thing and to be patient.

Eddie pauses, swipes at his hot face and takes a couple of deep breaths, letting his erratic heartbeats slow down. He leans his head against the headboard, becoming absorbed at the sight of Richie continuing to bob his head up and down in between his legs. The rushing of his heartbeats resumes and he moans loudly, resisting the urge to moves his hips this time. He sees the corner of Richie’s mouth turns upwards, and the amused glint in his eyes before he closes them to take in more of him. Eddie shuts his eyes tightly, tears leaking at the corners from the pleasure and the desperation of holding it in, not wanting this to end too soon.

“Richie,” he pants, then bites at his fist to muffle the shouts of ecstasy bursting to come out of his throat. But then, even through the thick haze clouding his mind, he is still able to register in perfect clarity the lyrics of the song from the radio playing next door of his dorm room; the music turned up so loud, the owner obviously taking advantage of the almost empty building due to semester break. Eddie realises that he doesn’t need to be quiet so he lets himself free from his conscious restraint and soon his moans fill the room.

Richie let go off him with a popping sound, licks his lips, then tucks his legs toward him gently and Eddie slides down until he is fully lying down on the bed. He isn’t given the time to centre his thought as Richie begins giving him firm strokes that sends him biting his lower lips and his back arching in a perfect curve. He hears a chuckle from his boyfriend, who looks down at him from his kneeling position, smirking, almost sinisterly at the state he is in.

“You like that baby?” Richie asks, tugging him just a little bit harsher, just enough to make him pants hotly on the pillow.

“Mhmm,” is all Eddie is capable of verbalizing, licking his lips while his eyelids flutter; the shadow of his thick eyelashes dancing on top of his cheeks, mesmerizing his boyfriend. He takes the thumb that his boyfriend traces across his lips, then alternates between sucking and licking it like how a kitten would lap on its milk.

“Fuck, Eds, you don’t know how sexy you look right now. Fuck!” Richie claims, stopping his stroking completely. Eddie snaps his eyes open, feeling disappointed at the empty feeling. However, at the sight of Richie slicking himself with lube and then tearing open a packet of condom, he retreats to his back and sinks his head down the pillow with anticipation. Then he takes a pillow and places it under his hips before his boyfriend resumes his position in between his spread legs.

“You ready babe?” Richie asks, already lifting his right leg over his shoulder while he spreads the other wide. Eddie nods his head, then gasps as Richie slowly and gently sinks into him. He huffs, eyes shut at the feeling of being filled up so completely, mouth open in silent moans.

“Fuck Eddie, this feels so good, uh,” Richie mumbles breathlessly, giving time for Eddie to adjust before pulling out halfway and then pushing back in. At the start of pleasured noises from Eddie, Richie begins thrusting in and out of his boyfriend, his eyes rolling back at the delicious frictions.

“Fuck!” he moans, turning his head to leave kisses on his calf. He gazes down at the boy writhing below him, his flushed face scrunched up in sweet agony and feels himself getting harder as he continues pounding into his boyfriend.

“Richie,” Eddie whines, fingers gripping at the bed sheet as the hot coils of pleasure starts pooling at the bottom of his stomach. There’s a blooming in his chest at how deep his boyfriend is inside of him and what accompanies from that realisation is the intense love he feels at the curly haired boy. “Kiss me,” he requests, almost too innocent in a situation like this but he just wants everything of his boyfriend at the moment.

Richie moves both of his legs so that it circles his waist and then leans down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Eddie wraps one arm under his shoulder and with the other grips the hair at the back of his head, returning his boyfriend’s kiss with the same kind of force that becomes too much that they need to stop to catch air. But once they have enough hit of oxygen, they dive into each other once more, only this time, Richie is latching onto Eddie’s neck while simultaneously resuming his thrusts.

Eddie moves his head up, giving more access for his boyfriend to suck on the skin there, marking it. He lets his mind wander, between how the bed rocks beneath him and how his boyfriend’s body is moving against him while they’re being connected as one. He centres his mind on that awareness until his thoughts derail when Richie finally hits his prostate, causing him to scream aloud.

Richie feeds on it, hitting the spot repeatedly until Eddie sees nothing but stars behind his closed eyelids. Eddie mumbles his name incoherently, lost in the euphoria of having that special place inside of him discovered and attends to. He feels the pressure of overstimulation pooling at his dick, Richie’s stomach sliding up and down on the length of it, making Eddie becoming more desperate for a release. He reaches in between their bodies to grip at his leaking member and begins stroking himself, mind projecting an image of Richie doing that to him. He gets his wish as Richie leans up, move his legs from his waist to spread them so that each leg is bended in a ‘v’ on both side of his hips. He swats Eddie’s hand gently and begins jerking him off. Eddie’s whole body burns, it feels 10 times better with Richie’s hand instead of his own. His mouth is parted in a perfect ‘o’, exhaling stuttered breaths as he rocks his hips up to meet Richie’s thrust. This time Richie doesn’t stop him from chasing after his release as he wants the same.

Soon, all reservations are forgotten; the sound of skin slapping against skin and wet sounds of stroking intensifies, heating up the room and its there, hanging in the air, so hot and so close. It is Eddie who comes first, shouting Richie’s name as his body goes stiff and the white cloud of orgasm envelopes his senses causing him to release on both of their stomach. His body trembles, sparks of electricity dwindling away as he rides it out with eyes halfway close, Richie’s hand still on him.

Eddie opens his eyes slowly and sees Richie throwing his head back, the trace of impending orgasm clear on his crimson spotted face. He holds still and let his boyfriend uses his body to reach his peak. Eddie feels it, the increased hardness pressed into him as Richie’s thrusts become more frantic. He bites his lips at the soreness already forming below but waits patiently, gripping at Richie’s arms in silent encouragement.

And then, there it is, the pleasure that makes Richie buries his face next to Eddie’s head on the pillow, cock twitching inside his boyfriend as he gradually releases inside the condom. Eddie feels the tickle of warm breaths in his ear and the snugness of Richie’s whole weight over him. He rubs his rigid back soothingly.

“Oh fuck, uh, uh,” Richie moans in his ear, his thrusts slowing and Eddie feels the softening of his member. He feels some kind of satisfaction at hearing his boyfriend this vulnerable and it makes him wraps his arm around his neck lovingly, hesitant to let go.

Minutes pass and alas, the heat in the air proves to be too much _– too overwhelming to ignore –_ for their close embrace to be comfortable. Richie leans up with his elbows, brushes Eddie’s hair from his sweaty forehead and plants a kiss there. Then he gets out of the bed, discard the condom in the trash can then reaches for his jeans on the floor, puts it on and extracts a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket. He walks to the window, opens it, then leans his head outside and lights up a stick.

Eddie watches his boyfriend inhales deeply on the cigarette with eyes heavy with fatigue, threatening to close on him. He forces himself to stay awake, doesn’t want this moment to pass seeing that this is the first time in the week that he gets to be alone with his boyfriend. Richie has been busy trying to accommodate the multiple shifts at the university’s radio station to cover for the other presenters who have left for the semester break. Then there were the parties that his boyfriend never misses to attend; his popularity around the campus at an all-time high as he has an invitation almost every night. Seeing that Eddie isn’t a fan of the party scene, it cuts his time short with his boyfriend. It’s never an issue though. Richie could always find someone to go with and often to go home with; guys and girls, anyone who fancies his interest.

Through an outsider’s perspective, it might seems strange on how casual Eddie takes this information in; his boyfriend not hiding the fact that he is hooking up with those guys and girls that he dances with at those parties. Not a lot of people know this but they are in an open relationship. That’s right, meaning that they can sleep with other people should they want to. Only the losers know about this – _their group of friends._ – However, they don’t really divulge everything to them seeing that what happens behind closed door when the other one isn’t around is quite frankly not that person’s concern. Eddie knows Richie sleeps around, even knows some of the people that had been his one night stands, having been confronted by a handful in the past. He saw those people, how attractive they were and he understands the appeal for Richie.

It was an agreement that they’ve made when Eddie confessed to Richie, - _who have been one of his best friends for more than 15 years_ \- that he had feelings for him. Richie had said that he liked him as well, a lot, but was afraid that he couldn’t commit to one person. Eddie – _who was madly in love and unable to think straight other than how much he wanted Richie -_ had agreed when Richie proposed for an open relationship with Eddie holding the status of his boyfriend but at the same time, Richie (+ Eddie) is free to sleep with someone else, as long as it’s only a one night stand, not a relationship.

On the exterior, their friends seem to accept this arrangement that they have. However, Eddie isn’t blind to the looks that they share with each other when they thought Eddie and Richie – _mostly Eddie_ – aren’t looking when Richie flirts relentlessly with other people.

Eddie realises that his feelings for Richie makes him blind to reality. But, he still wants to hold on to this, doesn’t want to let go from being able to claim Richie as his. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind and make himself exclusive only to Eddie. Maybe. But then again, the thought of Richie changing his mind brings only a bittersweet smile and he shakes his head, that familiar voice telling him not to get his hopes up appears.

Eddie pushes himself up, stretches and grabs the wet wipes from the bedside table. He wipes the stickiness away and steps down the bed after deeming himself clean enough then pulls on his boxer. He walks toward his boyfriend, wraps his arms around his waist and buries his face in between his shoulder blades. Richie leans his head back until it touches the top of Eddie’s while taking a long last drag of his cigarette. Then he stubs the stick on the wooden window sill and shifts around to take Eddie into his arms, pressing his mouth on his right temple. He pecks the spot a couple of time before he drags his lips on top of his head and then inhales sharply in place of a kiss.

“There’s a party tonight at Kappa Sigma, you should come by. I’ll text you the address,” he tells Eddie, stroking his face lovingly. A rare soft smile appears on his face at the smaller boy who gives him a knowing look.

“I see,” is all that Eddie says, mind already halfway between considering it and not wanting to go.

“C’mon babe, it’ll be fun. Besides we’ve hardly seen each other this week,” Richie says, taking Eddie by surprise as he doesn’t think that his boyfriend would notice.

Eddie considers his options, eyes on Richie who looks at him, expecting a decision. Is that a look of hope in his boyfriend’s eyes? he wonders then he shakes the thought away. _“Yeah right.”_

“Ok,” he decides and Richie’s face brightens. “Just text me the address I guess. Is there any dress code?” he asks. His innocent question causes Richie to double over in laughter. Eddie stands perplexed as Richie grabs at both of his forearm, his head bent down to lean on his chest as he continues laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks.

“Babe, you’re just so precious. Dress code? Eds, we’re college students not suburban housewives,” Richie says in between laughter. “Just wear whatever you always wear and bring that cute face of yours, it’ll be fine,” he adds.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie flusters, feeling dumb.

Richie’s laughter dies down and he straightens up. “Whoops, gotta go. My shift starts in an hour and I really need a shower,” he let go of Eddie to grab the rest of his clothing, put them on while Eddie sit at the edge of his desk. Once he’s fully dressed, Richie grabs his face for a swift peck on the lips and turns to the door, pausing to give him a wink and a wide smile before closing it behind him.

Eddie is left to stare at the wooden door; the image of his boyfriend’s back lingers in his mind. How many times he has been in this exact position?; Richie almost always having to leave right after they’ve been intimate. He has his reason this time but usually it was under the pretext that it wasn’t fair for their respective roommates. It’s a weak excuse seeing that those roommates are their friends; Stan (Eddie’s) and Bill (Richie’s) who happened to be dating and by default wouldn’t mind if they were to switch room with each other.

Eddie shifts to the bed and makes himself comfortable on top of the cotton sheet. The ceiling fan is already set to the highest speed but it does little to stifle the heat in the room. It’s still manageable though and besides he doesn’t really feel like taking a shower yet, so he’ll just have to manage. He lets the spinning fan blades hypnotises him until his eyes turn heavy and he lets his mind drifts.

*****

Eddie wakes up with a jolt and the room is bathed in dim light that comes from Stan’s study lamp on his desk. He turns his face to the bed next to him and sees the outline of his friend lying on the bed, sleeping. He wonders how long he has fallen asleep and then remembers the party Richie had talked about. He quickly grabs his phone – _it’s 11.12pm_ \- to send a message to apologise to his boyfriend for not showing up. Only to stop at his track when he realises that he hasn’t received anything from Richie, who had promised to give him the address to the party.

What is there to apologise about then?

Richie had forgotten about him.

Eddie puts down his phone; expression aggrieved at the realisation but instantly shrugs it off – _a long practised habit._ – He steps down from the bed and goes to the closet for his towel and toiletries with the lightest steps he could muster, so as not to disturb Stan who is a light sleeper. He opens the door tentatively, cringing at the creaking from the hinges but Stan doesn’t stir so he lets a huge breath of relief. He traipses down the empty hallway to the bathroom, not really paying attention to anything else other than the thoughts in his head; thinking of how he’ll pull the strings just enough not to make Richie feels suffocated. How he’ll bear those nights alone as long as he gets to call Richie on the phone tomorrow. And how he’ll let him set the pace just so the end of the road means Eddie gets to keep him. It’s pathetic; he knows it but at the same time he’s willing to surrender to this madness because he wants him so much.

It gets tiring too at times, and he sighs as he wonders who his boyfriend is sleeping with tonight.

*****

The restaurant is bustling with the dinner rush crowd and Eddie curses as he almost slips on the wet floor of the busy kitchen. He is carrying a plate full of orders for the family of 5 who sits at the farthest corner in the restaurant, his arms shaking from the weight of the dishes but he managed. Once that’s done, he sets to entertain the couple sitting on the booth by the window. He recognizes them as his classmates and has to settle for a little bit of small talks before finally getting their orders. He is about to submit the order to the kitchen when a group of people enters the restaurant. His colleague, Laura is already ushering the group to the available space at the back and Eddie would have pay no mind to them if it isn’t for the nest of black curls that he knows so well. Richie is among the newly arriving patrons and when his eyes meet Eddie, he waves to him with a huge grin on his face before he joins his friends, some of whom Eddie recognises as part of his theatre crowd. Eddie waves back but then hurries to the kitchen.

While waiting for the orders for his table to be prepared, Eddie makes himself busy with cleaning up the empty tables around the restaurant. Despite his preoccupation, he is fully alert on the noise coming from the table Richie and his friends are sitting at. There are 7 of them, 5 guys – Richie included – and 2 girls. Eddie recognises the girl sitting next to Richie as Olivia Keith, a popular 2nd year. Eddie doesn’t miss the turn of their heads, how close in conversation they seem from his point of view, Richie eyes never leaving her and he feels his skin crawls up. He ignores the pang of jealousy that hits him at how close the girl is sitting next to his boyfriend, who seems oblivious or perhaps is even enjoying the attention from her. Richie couldn’t even bother to spare him a second glance.

“Hey, Eddie, would you mind sending this to the table? I gotta go to the washroom,” his train of thoughts is interrupted by Laura, his apologetic looking colleague.

Eddie nods his head with a heavy heart. He really is not in the mood to see his boyfriend and Olivia in close proximity, looking more like a couple – _a goddamn hot one_ – than he and Richie could ever be. But he’s built to be cooperative and with the inability to say no _– a damn curse_ – so he takes the tray from her and walks to the lively table.

 _“Kill me now,”_ he mutters under his breath while maintaining a friendly façade – _the restaurant policy is serve with a smile, so please someone kill him now. -_

“Hi, here’s your order,” he greets the table before depositing the tray and distributing the food to everyone. His boyfriend with his usual order of jumbo cheeseburger while Olivia, _\- beautiful, perfect Olivia -_ ordered a plate of avocado salad.

_“Fucking hipsters,”_

However, deep down, Eddie knows he’s not being fair. For all he knows, Olivia could be an angel in disguise, who serves the homeless every other day, with a cup of soy-latte wraps around her perfectly manicured fingers while prancing around on her 4 inches stilettos. And Eddie tries not to hate her too much just because his boyfriend is paying more attention to her than him; his actual boyfriend. He really tries.

“Oh Richie, I almost forgot, he’s your boyfriend right? I always forget he’s a waiter here. He’s so cute,” Olivia exclaims, suddenly. Eddie feels all eyes on him and a blush creeping up on his cheeks. He hates attention and hates being referred to as cute – _feeling more like a puppy rather than a fully grown man. -_ He remembers it now why something about Olivia just never sits right with him. For lack of a better word, she is just something. On the few occasions that Eddie had met her, she always have this condescending look that she would give to Eddie, and it’s almost always like a challenge. A look that says, _“He might be your man, but that’s not gonna stop me.”_

And Eddie doesn’t think that would stop her anyway. He has a suspicion that they had slept together, wouldn’t put it pass his boyfriend to pass on someone who looks like she comes out straight from a heavily filtered IG model Instagram. Besides, Olivia seems like she’s in the know of the secret that’s not so much of a secret but rather the unacknowledged truth about his relationship with Richie. He really is not in the place to be critical of that when it is permissible in the first place.

But for god sakes, why does he have to hang around with her? And why do they have to go to this restaurant, out of the millions of restaurant in New York? It’s like the universe wants him to hate her.

Eddie quietly tries to let the attention passes from him by quickly serving their drinks. He wants to get away from them; anxious of Richie’s friend’s judgement of him. It’s all probably in his head but he could almost swears he sees the condescending smirks they share with each other. He doesn’t dare to glance at his boyfriend, afraid that his insecurity will show. However, Richie is oblivious to that it seems, a proof of that as he pulls on Eddie’s hand to link their fingers together. Then he raises their joined hands and places a kiss on top of Eddie’s.

“Yup, he’s the cutest isn’t he?” he asks casually, tipping his head up to wink at him. Eddie blushes, embarrassed at Richie’s simple announcement.

" _Hah, fuck you Olivia. Spreads your legs all you want, I’m still the one he claims as his boyfriend.”_ Is what he wants to say out loud, but of course he doesn’t, he’s not crazy. And he has to admit that the statement is rather pathetic, even in his head.

“Richie, I’m at work,” he mutters, grabs his tray and turn to leave the table. However, he doesn’t manage to get far as Richie grabs at his arm and gestures for him to lean closer.  

“By the way, Bill wants the room for him and Stan tonight. Wanna go watch a movie?” Richie asks. “Then we can have sexy time,” Richie teases with a suggestive arch of his eyebrow, then exhales a laugh at Eddie’s embarrassed reaction.

Eddie is mortified at the bluntness and also at the snickers from the table – _he wishes he could just float away,_ \- however he sees the tight-lipped smile Olivia is giving and a confident one grows on his face. He says a clear ‘yes’ to his boyfriend before he bolts to the kitchen, not giving time to check her reaction.

Eddie cringes mentally at his cowardly action but at the same time is satisfied that he manages to put on a show for Olivia. That would show her who he really is to Richie. He holds the highest hierarchy among all those random one-night standers and sorry Olivia you’re just one of them.

Just to pass the time, he makes himself busy with arranging the menu at the front counter. But then his eyes catches the sight of Olivia putting her arm around Richie’s shoulders, throwing her head back in laughter, her perfect hair descends down her back like melted gold while Richie returns her merriment with a guffaw, looking pleased with himself. Then he watches Richie gives her a nudge and the handsome devilish looks that he wears so well. Eddie feels like throwing up or walking up to the table and just pull him away from those people and hide him somewhere remote so that no one else could see Richie that way _– so perfect and so beautiful_ – or maybe just do both. He can’t decide.

He wonders when he has become this pathetic.

The answer is always, he have always been this pathetic, ever since he was 16 years old and realised that the weird butterflies that erupted at the bottom of his stomach every time he looked at the bespectacled boy was not a simple fondness for a best friend, instead it had been something more, so much more that he can’t contain, unexplainable but yet had been sewn so deep in his heart that even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to undo the stiches.

Yes, he is so utterly and foolishly in love with Richie Tozier but he doubts that Richie feels the same.

*****

Eddie waits at the bench outside the closed restaurant, earphones in his ears while he scrolls through his pinterest _– he likes it so much better than any other apps as he isn’t obligated to interact with anyone and not willingly giving himself anxiety on how perfect the life of others seems._ –

Richie arrives 30 minutes later with hair that is a little bit messy than usual and clothes wrinkled at the back. He takes Eddie’s hand and they stroll by the shop lots to head to the cinema.

There are a lot of things they talk about on the way; nonsense such as how the no gluten fad is the government’s conspiracy to get people to eat more quinoa – _somehow_ \- and how Richie’s English lit professor is a closeted Naruto enthusiast – _without a doubt._ –

But what they don’t talk about is the obvious hickey poking just beneath the collar of Richie’s shirt or the fact that he smells a bit like some expensive women’s perfume.

Eddie tries to convince himself that it’s just allergy or that he is actually going colour blind.

He knows he’s lying to himself.

*****

“Hey Bill, I dare you to eat these hot wings in 5 minutes,” Richie challenges, eyes blazed with excitement at Bill who is looking at the said chicken wings in the bucket with some sort of determination and hesitancy.

Stan who is sitting beside Bill - his boyfriend - rolls his eyes at the stupid games they have been playing ever since they sat down at the booth near the jukebox at the bar. Bill and Richie are two of the most competitive person he knows and this is going to be another long night of watching them doing dumb shit. All he wanted is a nice night of drinking, watching the live band and if he is up to it, maybe go dance with his idiot boyfriend. But that’s not going to happen now isn’t it? He’s gonna go home with a diarrhoea stricken boyfriend instead, he just knows it. 

He directs his attention to Eddie who sits in front of him, eyes lock to Richie, There’s no mistaken the softness radiating from his brown eyes. _‘Typical,’_ he thinks to himself and he doesn’t understand what he sees in the Trashmouth. He’s not being mean and Richie is his best friend but he just doesn’t get it. But who is he to judge so he stands up to go get some iced water from the bar with full knowledge that his boyfriend will need it soon, catching a trail of their conversations as he leaves.

“What do I get in return?” Bill asks.

“My respect,” Richie declares in which Stan hears Bill snorts but as predicted, he says fine determinedly.

“Bill, I’m begging you to please consider. I can assure you that his respect doesn’t mean anything much. Think. Is this worth it? Is it?’ he then hears Eddie says dramatically, only serving to egg on his boyfriend more. He smiles at his friends – plus his boyfriend’s – immaturity.

He has to wait for a while to get the bartender’s attention and some more time to get his iced water. He doesn’t understand what the hold-up is about, it’s basically just putting some ice and water in a glass, and he’s tempted to reach across the bar and just do it himself. Finally, the bartender hands it to him and he pays for the 5 dollars that it cost _– getting incense as he thinks  of how many snickers bar he can get from that 5 dollars alone. Like what is the water made of? Unicorn’s piss? -_ Then lamenting on why he chose this expensive city in the first place.

He walks back to the table where his boyfriend is bending over with his forehead pressed over the edge of the table, coughing while Richie is howling with laughter. Eddie meanwhile is pressing his mouth in a tight line, trying not to laugh at Bill who is obviously in real agony and probably regretting his life choices at the moment.

“Oh, did you get the respect?” he asks sarcastically then he passes the glass of cold water to his boyfriend who grabs on it hastily. Bill almost drinks half of the water before he cough mid chug and spits it out, spraying, thankfully at the wall instead of the people around him. Stan clasps his hand over his mouth, wanting to laugh but holding it in to stand in solidarity with his boyfriend who is desperately trying to ease his coughs.

Richie is near hysterical at this point, his handphone shaking in front of him as he takes the video of the whole thing. “This is perfect,” he claims as he wipes at his watery eyes with his free hand.

“Rich, stop it. Have mercy please,” Eddie fake begged, his initial polite resolve gone, burying his face at the side of his boyfriend’s shoulder as his whole body shakes with laughter.

“I can’t babe, I mean just look at that,” Richie points to Bill who is running towards the toilet. “Oh god, I don’t deserve this much good things.”

Stan sees him typing something in his phone, “Richie don’t you dare post that in Facebook. You’re aware we’re in a bar right?”

Richie looks at him weirdly, “Yeah. So?”

“Eddie’s in the video, genius. Do you want his mum to freak out?” he states.

“Oh shit,” Richie says, realisation dawns on his face and he turns to his boyfriend, feeling guilty. “Sorry babe, I forgot about your mum and her weird no alcohol rule. I’m deleting it now,”

“Sorry my mum is crazy,” Eddie apologises as well. As much as he wants to escape his mother’s clutches and do whatever he wants now that he’s in New York, he can’t. Because his mother still supports some of his expenses despite him having a part time job on the side as New York is just so fucking expensive to live in and don’t get him started on his expensive college books, just don’t. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t drink because he’s not 21 yet – _he has a strict adherence to the law that he never feels tempted to try anyway_ – because Sonia Kaspbrak isn’t one to listen to reason. She’ll just assumes the worst and Eddie is on strike two now. First had been choosing NYU instead of a college just outside of Derry and second had been for dating Richie, whom his mother has a strong dislike for. He’s not really keen on finding out what hitting the 3rd strike would entail him.

“It’s deleted. You’re safe now, Mrs. K wouldn’t be showing up outside of your dorm room anytime soon,” Richie says, running his fingers through Eddie’s hair fondly. Then his face brightens, a hint of a teasing that’s to come, “Although it’s such a shame though because I bet she misses this,” he gestures to his crotch, “and I must admit, I am missing some of that MILF action,” he teases Eddie, wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly.

Eddie scoffs at his boyfriend, “Why can I just have a normal boyfriend?” he pleads to no one.

Richie chuckles at his boyfriend’s grieve, pinches the corners of his mouth until it forms an ‘o’ and leans to smooch at his open lips, flourishing it with a ‘mwah’, leaving the wide eyed boy blushing from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. He drops his gaze shyly on his lap.

“Ok. I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything Eds?” he offers but Eddie just shakes his head.

Stan follows the trail of Eddie’s vision which is at Richie’s retreating back to the bar and he wonders whether he have ever seen anyone else so love struck before. He comes to the conclusion that no, he never did. Not even between him and Bill. He mirrors Eddie in watching Richie makes his order, watch the bartender flirts shamelessly with him, batting her eyelashes coyly at Richie who is more than willing to entertain. Then he watches as she slips a paper inside his jeans’ front pocket. Automatically he turns to Eddie whose eyes is glued to the scene unfolding at the bar, noticing the crest fallen look on his face and the dejected slump of his shoulders.

He feels nothing but pity at his friend, remembering the late night conversation they had sometimes ago.

_“Are you sure you wanna do this Eddie?” Stan asked, not hiding the sceptical tone behind his question._

_“I’m sure Stan.” Eddie confirms._

_“You think you can handle hearing or even seeing Richie goes home with someone else?”_

_“I think I can.”_

_“Is he really worth it Eddie?”_

_Eddie merely shrugged with a pained smile he thought he can convince Stan with._

_“What are you doing?” he had asked, honestly puzzled._

_“I don’t know Stan. I just want to see how this goes,”_

If he could return to that exact moment, he would have say that it’s going to go badly. Although, Eddie isn’t willing to admit it to himself yet; too stubborn to acknowledge the truth. Nor does Richie who plays along probably because he wants to spare Eddie’s feelings. He wouldn’t deny that the affection is there, Richie to some degree must have some feelings toward Eddie as well. And it’s not like they are totally wrong for each other. It’s just that it’s so plainly obvious that they’re on totally different pages of the same book and the longer they keep at it, the more it would end up hurting Eddie. But as for now, all he can do is watches from afar and let things take its course. He bet it’ll be the most painful experience for them, Eddie especially, but sometimes all there is to do is to learn from experience.

Richie returns with a glass of beer. He slumps next to his boyfriend, stretches his arm and hooks it at the side of Eddie’s waist to pull him closer. Eddie complies and leans his head on his chest. They stay that way while Richie drinks his beer and Eddie plays with his phone. Stan doesn’t miss the soft look Eddie has on his face, feeling like he’s encroaching on some kind of a private moment.

He then looks at Richie who doesn’t seem affected as much as Eddie does at their closeness.

He really doesn’t understand what Eddie sees in him.

He really doesn’t.

*****

For Eddie, autumn is where he feels the most alive. It’s an unexplainable feeling but it always makes perfect sense to him, like how the air is always charged with fuzziness that makes Eddie feels as if he’s walking on top of clouds, floating, and everyone always seems a little wiser – relaxed. - It has always been his favourite season; something about autumn always brings to his mind of comfortable sweaters, feet kept warm in wool socks and bodies pressed together under snug, warm blanket. But then again, he might just be biased because September is the month of birthday and he guesses everyone feels a little bit different when it comes to that. Coincidentally, today happens to be his birthday; September 18th, and this means he is finally 21 years old. He is now a full-fledged adult with a universal license to drink and also mountains of brand new responsibilities that he intends, for now, to put as far away at the corner of his mind until he has to face them.

Eddie is strolling through Central park, his favourite place in the city, with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. The air is charged with the melancholy of the season; earthy smell in the air, dead leaves beneath his feet and the alternate rainbow produced by the changing leaves of autumn.

He sits at one of the benches, sipping on the hot chocolate. He then takes out his phone and points it towards the sky to snap a picture of the late afternoon sky; a canvas of faded blue, tinted with blush pink. He checks on his phone for any messages from his friends to tell him the address of the venue where his birthday celebration will be at but so far there is none. There’s a lot to be excited about for today but the thing he’s most excited about is his best friends – the losers – flying from all over the country to New York to celebrate his birthday. It’s a pact they’ve made before leaving for college which were they would celebrate their respective 21st birthday together. So far, they have made good on that promise; with 4 birthdays already celebrated (Stan in January, Richie in March, Bill in April and Beverly in August), then it’ll be at San Francisco for Ben’s birthday next month and lastly back at Derry for Mike’s in December.

His friends have been blowing up his phone since this morning with birthday wishes and tons of memes to commemorate the celebration and the first agenda of the day was the breakfast the six of them had at the Waffle house. Six, because Richie wasn’t there.

Eddie didn’t want to ask questions about his whereabouts, _– then risks spoiling the fun for everyone. –_

Didn’t want to call him to ask whether he remembers it’s his birthday, even asked his friends not to post anything about his birthday on social media _– and then risks coming off as needy. –_

And vehemently denied any offer from his friends to call his boyfriend instead _– again; needy._ –

To be honest, it stings a lot; Richie’s absence. However, for the benefit of everyone, he decided to conceal his disappointment with careful precision – _a master of it at this point_ – because he didn’t want to put a damper on the cheerful atmosphere his friends are trying to create on his special day. Sure there was an obvious hole there, one part of the 7 pieces puzzle missing as they continued the day with a visit to the planetarium; Ben, Bev and Mike taking the opportunity to be the ultimate tourists while Bill and Stan held hands as they look at the display.

And Eddie, he just tried to enjoy the moment, not linger too much on the fact that Richie wasn’t there when he should have been and tried to take that reality with a grain of salt; maybe he’s busy or maybe it just slips his mind. But what if he’s hurt? Oh god, please, not that. And that sends him worrying a little about his boyfriend but there was nowhere to find out the real reason if he didn’t want to pick up the phone and asks him directly wasn’t it? It was an infinite loop and Eddie figured that the only way to escape the endless theories and unanswered question was by not thinking about it at all.

However, as the day wore on, it became apparent that all signs hinted to Richie actually forgetting about his birthday. It wasn’t just a simple assumption as the evidence lies all over his Instagram page.

Eddie is a hypocrite; despite his resolution not to check up on what Richie is up to, he had caved and clicked open when the notification appeared on his phone while already knowing that it’ll be a bad idea. What he saw disappointed him a lot, Richie was somewhere downtown, hanging around with Olivia Keith and her posse in a trendy café _– does this makes Richie as part of the posse though? –_ What’s worse was that he knew his friends saw the same notification, knew what was going on and he was humiliated. He saw the pity in their eyes as they looked at him and Eddie just wanted to shout out loud and said;

_“Hey it’s ok because I kinda deserved this. Like I’m the one who asked to be in this situation. Please stop feeling sorry for me.”_

Of course he said nothing of the sort and none of his friends addressed the situation with Richie. So they continued on their way to the museum as part of Eddie’s birthday exploration (3 places, 2+1 – because they couldn’t very well afford to pay for entry fees to 21 places), the atmosphere a little awkward but not too much that everyone couldn’t keep pretending that everything was just peachy.

They went on their separate ways before his birthday dinner – _location still a secret_ – to get ready. Eddie was specifically instructed to wait for a message of the address, anticipated to be around 6pm. He had finished gotten ready somewhere around 4pm and with that much time left in between brings him to Central park. Sitting alone on the park bench, watching people passes him by; making him feels like a lone traveller on a trip somewhere foreign. He feels so alone yet not as lonely as he has his friends to go to next. Not his boyfriend apparently as he’s busy hanging out with the perfect Olivia Keith.

_“What’s so special about Olivia?” Eddie asks an imaginary Richie he conjured in his head._

_“She’s not you,” ‘Richie’ answers._

It strikes a chord, right in his gut. There’s nothing that can destroy him more than the words he can formulate in his mind. He tries not to let his insecurity gets to him too much but can’t deny the striking truth behind them. He knows how he feels about Richie isn’t the same as how the latter feels about him. He’s on a different level that is impossible for Richie to catch up to – _not that he wants to, Eddie doubts it._ – He knows what he has willingly gotten himself into. The only way out is for him to either wait for the magic to wear off or wait for Richie to change his mind; both of which he doubts would happen.

He strives to be positive. Couldn’t help but to hope that maybe Richie will be waiting for him at the restaurant, along with the losers. And then he’ll greet Eddie with that big smile of his and a bear hug that he likes to give when he wants to be extra affectionate _– the one that makes Eddie feels all so overwhelmed because his boyfriend is just so tall and his body is always so warm. –_

So when he gets a message from Stan about 10 minutes later, directing him to go to a new Sushi restaurant 3 blocks away, he keeps his optimism high, sure that Richie must have planned this out only to surprise him later.

There’s already a line forming outside the new restaurant and the fact that Eddie could walk straight in results in a few harsh glances send down his way. His friends are waiting and waving excitedly at him, their table of 7 is situated right in the middle of the crowded restaurant, adorned with blue coloured balloons. When he gets to his friends, they all stand up and each take turn to give him a hug and Beverly even kisses him on the cheek. He sits in the middle, between Stan and Bill while the other three sit across them. There’s an empty chair at the head of the table that Eddie tries to ignore. However, he also can’t help the disappointment that washes over him, no matter how much he tells himself that it doesn’t matter because his other friends are there and they’ve put a lot of efforts in this; _there’s even an ice-cream birthday cake from the posh bakery that he has been fantasizing to eat_. He couldn’t afford to be upset; couldn’t bear to ruin this for everyone.

So he musters the widest smile he could while his friends sing him happy birthday and since it’s a Friday night, everybody in the restaurant sing along with them _–jovial mood all around because tomorrow is the start of the weekend._ – Then his friends clap enthusiastically as he blows on the candle, taking his pictures and posting it online _– he doesn’t care anymore if Richie sees it –_ and tell Eddie to order whatever he wants and he does, even when he feels full from the lump of sadness stuck in his throat as the seconds pass by and Richie still isn’t there.

_“It’s okay. This is okay. You’re gonna make it through this. Don’t let them know how much this hurts you.”_

Eddie opens up his presents as they wait for the foods to arrive. He is really touched at what he receives, everyone appear to give a lot of thoughts in choosing his gifts. From Beverly and Ben, he receives a leather watch that they found in some vintage store in San Francisco. While from Bill and Stan, he gets a white noise machine because Stan knows how much trouble it is for Eddie to sleep sometimes because hey, living in a building full of energetic college kids isn’t the most conducive environment for a peaceful bedtime and while Stan gets irritated sometimes due to the noises around them, Eddie have it worse because of his anxiety. And then there’s Mike, sweet old Mike, who gives him a 2nd hand first edition Narnia books that he has been telling the losers he wants to buy for forever but never getting around to it because there is always essentials that needs purchasing to keep him functioning as an adult.

He looks at the beaming faces around him and he gets overwhelmed. On one hand, he is so grateful for their company and couldn’t stop questioning how he become so lucky to have the kind of friends who would take the time out of their busy schedule to celebrate his life. But then on the other hand, his mind couldn’t stop fixating on Richie; the one person that isn’t there, who out of all the losers should have been there the most. But he isn’t. He’s out there somewhere, probably having the time of his life, with Eddie being so far out of his mind. He plays it around in his head, debating his logic to be upset about this, expending on reasons on why he shouldn’t care but those reasons aren’t enough to keep his frustration with Richie at bay. And he doesn’t want to be clingy, doesn’t want to be demanding but damn it! Richie should have been there. Because if he could spend the time with some random girl all day long then he should be able to spend 2 hours of his time with Eddie; his boyfriend.

It is then Eddie begins to address his true feelings, the genuine one that resides at the core of his soul. Not the one that keeps on preventing him from admitting the truth. It’s the one that’s always honest, regrettably the one that he seldom listens to. He thinks of how Richie is with him during the 2 years they have been together; how different the real Richie is to the one that he has conjured in his mind, almost too tangible that he sees the real one through this entity. Richie doesn’t care much about him. He never did. Not in the way that he wants, not in the way that matters.

He is the one who feels and hopes too much and Richie perhaps is just playing the role of the best friend that goes along with it because he’s too much of a good person to let Eddie down. Now that he thinks of it, the only person that is to blame is himself, not only for creating a mess of things but also for involving Richie in this stupid crush. He doesn’t hate Richie, he hates himself – a lot – because he could have said no when Richie had proposed an open relationship. He should have seen the sign because the thought of him sleeping with someone else should have destroyed Richie the way it slowly did to him, only he had been too ignorant to see it clearly.

He lets his resentment slowly seeps out. How he hates imagining how Richie must have look like when he is with someone else.

Did he touch them the same way he touched Eddie; with long fingers that traces every inch of his bare skin as if in wonder?

Did he whispers their name gently after that last moment of ecstasy; when the pleasure have long gone and all they have is that quiet moment spent in each other arms? – _the moment that Eddie cherished the most._ - 

Did he give them the same vulnerable sleepy smile that he gives Eddie when he’s about to fall asleep? – _the one that make his heart skips a beat all the time even though it’s something that he sees often. –_

_“I bet he does it with anyone. You’re nothing special.”_

Eddie feels an invisible punch to his chest and he swallows that lump in his throat even harder when his friends start to looks at him with concern. He knows it’s showing; the emotional turmoil that’s creating a hurricane in his head. He is aware of his face getting warmer and the salty taste of the tears that he has desperately tries to contain. It isn’t working though as his eyes start to pool with the tears he is so ashamed of. He doesn’t want to burden his friends with this, thought he can address this all alone and face it himself. However, this proves to be too much to bear. The realisation that he doesn’t occupy as much space in Richie’s heart the way Richie has occupies his completely hits him hard.

Finally, the whole day spent walking on egg shells takes a toll on him and he bows his head down with his hands covering his face.

He hates himself, he really do.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” Beverly is the first to ask, getting around the table to rub at his back.

“I’m so-, I’m so sorry,” is all he manages to say, shaking his head at his questioning friends before putting his hands up to indicate a need to be alone. Then he bolts to the back entrance and steps out in an alleyway.

_“Good job Eddie. Now you’ve done it. You’ve ruined it for everyone.”_

That’s when he completely let go. All the emotions he has been holding back; his frustration, disappointment and resentment – he can’t do this anymore. Doesn’t want to do this anymore.

He slides down with his back pressed along the bricked wall to the cold floor, not caring about the germs and the all-encompassing dirtiness that would rendered him incapable of thinking straight under normal circumstances. All that is pushed at the back of his tired mind and he lets his sadness guides him. He raises his feet up until the knees touch his chest and he buries his face over them and starts sobbing – something he hasn’t done for a long time. –

 _“Where are you Richie? Why aren’t you here? Please be here.”_ He begs to a person that’s not there.

It occurs to him, nothing has hurt him this much before; nothing with this much weight and impact. And it’s all because he wants to see how this would go even though it has been clear from the start where the paths he has chosen will lead to. It’s dangerous what the mind chooses to ignore and he has entered into this with someone who is equally as ignorant on the consequences.

What exactly has he achieved from this?

Nothing. Except voluntary heartbreak. He is so fucking stupid.

Eddie lifts his head up at the sound of the back door opening, not even bothering to wipe his wet face. It’s Stan – always the one to take the role of the ‘coordinator’ because he seldom lets emotions cloud his judgement; analytical and sensible making up the aesthetic of who he is as an individual.

Stan gives him a look – a mix of frustration and sympathy - doesn’t question him whether he’s okay or to tell him to stop crying.

Instead all he does is asks him a question that nobody else dares to ask. “Eddie, why are you doing this to yourself?”

Eddie doesn’t quite know how to answer him.

*****

Eddie lies down on his bed with the comforter wraps tightly around his body. His eyes are dry and puffy; it hurts when he attempts to close them. His throat stings but he’s too lazy to get out from the comfortable cotton cocoon to get a cup of water. It has been a pleasant and hellish day all at the same time.

His birthday celebration resumed after Stan had come to take him back inside the restaurant. After Stan had posed his simple question, Eddie didn’t answer him, instead he burst out crying like a middle schooler scolded by his favourite teacher. Stan had let him be, rubbing his back, but didn’t try to comfort him with words, which in Eddie’s opinion made the whole thing better. Then after he had calmed down, Stan had offered his hands for Eddie to hold, to help him to his feet and when Eddie gripped onto his forearm on the way back inside the restaurant, he didn’t complain.

His friends understood when Eddie told them that he didn’t want to talk about it. He suspected they knew the reason why anyway but was always aware of their limits that they wouldn’t pry on it without his permission. So they ate their dinner, talk in between the main course and dessert and then separated once more – Bev, Ben and Mike to the hotel while Stan followed Bill to his dorm room - with a promise to meet each other tomorrow for brunch and another day of exploring the city.

The dinner and his friends’ presence have done a lot to restore Eddie’s spirit. The sadness is still there but it’s dull as it has been addressed. Or perhaps he’s just too tired. Richie is conclusively M.I.A. and he accepts the fact. At the same time he begins considering what the next step is for the two of them. And the more he thinks about it, the more obvious it becomes. There’s no way around it – he realises it has always been their end game, a truth that Eddie doesn’t want to see but now it’s time open his eyes.

Then as if the universe wants to strengthens his conviction, the phone rings just after midnight. The caller ID shows Richie’s name and Eddie stares at it without feeling. He let it goes to voice mail, not a hint of urgency to know what he wants to say to him. He is expecting an apology but has decided that there’s nothing to apologise for. Richie doesn’t owe him anything. His life doesn’t have to stop just because Eddie has been alive exactly 21 years yesterday.

After almost 10 minutes have passed, Eddie finally takes a listen to his voicemail.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry – _bingo_ – I’m such an idiot. I feel so bad. Just name anything you want, I’ll do it. Baby, please forgive me.” There’s a pause and what follows is a heavy sigh – _and it’s Eddie that feels bad. What a fucking mess – “_ Happy birthday Eds.” Richie wishes then there’s a click when he ends the conversation.

Eddie lets the phone pressed on his ear, absent-mindedly listens to the beeping as he stares at the white ceiling. Then, a sudden rush of determination forms and he makes up his mind. He deletes the voice mail.

*****

When it comes to conflict, Eddie’s response is always flight rather than fight. It’s his usual reaction to the things that he doesn’t want to deal with; he’ll push it aside and let it festers to rot in his brain until he couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s been a week ever since the whole birthday fiasco and Eddie hasn’t seen his boyfriend since. Richie have tried reaching out to him, leaving him voice messages for the phone calls that he refused to answer – _which is all of them_ -  mostly starting with ‘I’m sorry.’ It takes a lot in Eddie to ignore every single attempts of his boyfriend to make amend. Like he literally makes an effort to do it such as by not having meet ups with Stan and Bill on the off chance that Richie might be tagging along.

And exhibit to three days ago when he almost ran into Richie who was walking down the hallway with Stan, maybe to a class or whatever and when Richie caught his eyes – he bolted. Like straight up started into a run on the opposite side while Richie called out to him. He didn’t know what possessed him at the moment but the thought of actually speaking to Richie was so daunting that he would rather run 2 blocks to the library – _and he did, all huffy puffy while people looked at him weirdly_ – and then having to walk back the same 2 blocks because he was supposed to attend a class. When Stan had come back to their room that night, he made no comment, just handed him a note from Richie.

 

**_‘Eddie, I’m really sorry about forgetting your birthday. Please let me make it up to you. Call me please._ **

**_– Richie –_ **

 

That was all the note had said.

Stan had rolled his eyes when he crumpled and then subsequently threw it in the trash.

“Just go talk to him. Stop being childish,” Stan finally commented.

 _“Don’t tell me what to do Stanley,”_ was what he wanted to tell him but he didn’t because Stan wasn’t the one you say those things to. And he was right, Eddie was acting childish. “I’ll think about it,” was all he has said instead.

Well, it had been a lie when he told Stan that he would think about it. Eddie isn’t even close to making up his mind on what his next step should be. It’s glaringly obvious what he should do but then he is still holding on to the familiar comfort of being able to call Richie his boyfriend. It’s something that is hard for him to let go off because what would they be if they weren’t dating?

Are they going to go back as best friends – _which they were before Eddie had ruined it with a stupid crush_ – or would they simply be friends, who used to date? Who used to see each other naked? What? How?

He’s admitting the fact that he is simply afraid of not having Richie in his life. They’ve known each other almost their whole lives and what if it turns awkward and they couldn’t bring themselves to hang out with each other anymore? Do their friends have to make separate arrangements to hang out with one of them?

What if in turn Richie starts to hate him? He doesn’t think he can handle that.

And what if Richie starts dating someone else? What if Eddie has to see Richie fall in love with someone else right in front of his eyes? It would kill him; the fact that it isn’t that Richie is incapable of loving just one person, its Eddie that he isn’t capable of loving. This would destroy him.

Then, these entire questions aside, there is also something his pride isn’t willing to admit; which is how much Richie’s ignorance has hurt his feelings. To some it may have been such a silly thing to make a fuss about but to Eddie it strikes a clear picture on how much he lets Richie gets away with. It’s always been something that he has imposed ever since they made their relationship official. The precedent was that he’ll do anything for Richie and he’s going to be comfortable with Richie setting the pace in their relationship. Subconsciously his mind had decided that Richie is a flight risk and therefore Eddie will not give him any reason to take flight. It’s what made it possible for Richie to change his sleeping partners as if changing clothes. It’s what made it possible for Eddie to act like such a moron.

Falling in love is difficult, even harder when it’s one-sided. Eddie is starting to admit this. Before, he’ll pick everything apart just to seek justification on why he should stay. Literally digging through haystacks for that one piece of needle to convince himself that to some extent, Richie does feel something for him as well – _because how could he not, when Eddie is the one he agrees to call his boyfriend._ \- Convincing himself that the pieces of clues are convictions that someday Richie will change his stand about the whole open relationship thing. But it never happens and Eddie is seeing it first hand on how he feels about Richie isn’t enough to make him change.

He spends a lot of time with these issues on the forefront of his inner debate. It’s a constant conflict between moving on and staying. He doesn’t know what to choose but couldn’t ignore the other persisting truth which is he’s not being fair to Richie. He’s putting him on a leash; a leash that Richie might be afraid to cut because all things aside, Eddie is foremost one of his best friends. It’s a lot harder to let go of a friendship than it is a romantic relationship. Perhaps Richie have been feeling this way a lot longer that Eddie can start to think of. Richie isn’t the bad person in the story, neither of them are. They’re just misguided and simple optimists who see a world painted with rainbows before considering the storm that’s always lurking in the corner.

Then it’s like taking a gulp of air after almost drowning. Eddie feels slightly liberated and with it comes the admittance on what the next step should be. Eddie decides to set Richie free.

The problem is he doesn’t know when to start.

*****

Then on the 8th day, it’s like a prayer he isn’t aware that he had is answered when Stan comes back to their dorm room carrying nothing but guilt in his face. It’s not something that Eddie is used to seeing because Stan isn’t the type to mess up or the type to do anything that would warrant Eddie’s anger but yet here he is, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Um Eddie,” he starts with face slightly abashed.

Eddie answers with a tilt of his head, projecting his curiosity.

“Please don’t hate me but Richie is outside. He wants to talk to you,” Stan confesses.

“Oh,” is what Eddie is able to say. His heart starts pounding as if he’s a little kid being called up to meet the dentist.

“I think maybe you should let him in,” Stan proposes.

Eddie gives Stan a searching look and realise just what an awkward position for him to be put in. But then again Stan is Richie’s oldest best friend; he wonders whether Richie tells him stuff. And if he does, he wonders how much Stan knows.  

“You’re right. Tell him he can come in,” Eddie decides.

A look of relief washes over the curly haired boy and he nods his head as he opens and then subsequently closes the door behind him. Eddie catches just a little trail of their hushed voices before it is cut off completely.

He prepares for the inventible and sits a little straighter on the chair, his fingers clutching tightly to the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

Finally the door opens slowly and Eddie releases a stuffy breath, nervous and sweating a bit from the anticipation. Richie enters the room with a careful smile plastered on his handsome face – _so good looking that it takes his breath away, still._ –

“Hey Eddie,” he says as he walks towards where he is sitting.

It takes Eddie his whole strength not to crumble as Richie takes him in his arms. Even more strength not to give himself up completely and surrender to his urge to push Richie to the bed and let Richie have his way with him. God, he misses the Trashmouth so much. So, so much. Fuck, why is this so hard?

Richie lets go of the hug far too quick, leaving Eddie a bit disappointed. Which is stupid considering he has made a point to stiffen his whole body when the hug has taken place, but still?

“I’m sor-“ Richie doesn’t manage to start as Eddie stands up abruptly from the chair, raises his hands up and shuffle to the window, to get away.

“Eddie,” Richie says, hurt obvious in his voice.

“No, I can’t, please stop saying that,” Eddie finds his voice and stands facing away from Richie; the outside view suddenly becoming more interesting.

Eddie hears a sigh from his back and then a slight breeze when Richie crosses the room to get closer to him. He feels Richie’s fingers gripping his forearm.

“Eddie, look at me. Please?” Richie begs, tugging on it a bit before fully as he feels Eddie’s body become compliant.

Eddie looks resolutely to the floor, doesn’t want to look at Richie because he just couldn’t bear to look at that perfect face because he knows he’ll lose it.

Richie lifts his chin up slowly and they meet eye to eye after such a long time. It breaks Eddie’s heart a bit as he realises that this is as close as he can get with Richie from now on. This will be the last time he’ll get to watch his warm brown eyes through those goofy glasses this clearly. Brown eyes that crinkles at the corner every time he laughs or smiles at Eddie. Brown eyes that made Eddie fall in love with him _– still. –_ Then Richie is cupping the side of his face with his hands and he’s leaning down, – _oh god, why is he leaning down? -_ lips hovering tentatively over Eddie’s, as if wanting him to decide where they should go from this.

Eddie pushes him away with a hand on his chest, gently, and leads Richie to his study chair. He indicates for Richie to sit there and then pulls Stan’s chair and they sit opposite to each other. Richie is tapping his feet on the floor, a habit he has when he’s anxious or nervous and Eddie feels a weird sympathy for him that’s making him wish for the ability to speed this thing over. Eddie clasps his hands over his lap, feeling Richie’s eyes on him. The air is thick with tension.

“I think we should break up,” there it is, out in the open.

Something changes in Richie’s face; the initial guilt gone, shifting into blankness that make him seems so far away from Eddie all of a sudden. His posture switched into rigidness as if waiting for a battle to start and he stands up.

“I see,” he says and starts pacing around the small room.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do. Mind seemingly unable to function and he swallows the thick lump in his throat.

“I think this is the right thing to do. I mean this isn’t working out isn’t it?” Eddie asks.

“If you say so, Eddie,” Richie replies, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie doesn’t know what compels him to apologise but there’s just something about seeing Richie slightly displeased that eats away at him. He realises how far gone he is for Richie. Too bad he doesn’t feel the same and this create an awareness in the smaller boy on why they’re having this conversation in the first place.

Richie snaps his eyes to Eddie, his stare piercing right to his soul and Eddie feels like cowering to the corner of the room because he never expects this type of reaction. He has half expected for Richie to simply shrug it off and go on his way. “No, don’t say that. You have nothing to apologise about,” Richie says and then moves to kneel in front of Eddie.

“You’re perfect Eddie. It’s me that should be apologizing. You have always been so good to me. I don’t deserve you baby,” he says, taking Eddie’s face with his hands.

At the word ‘baby’ Eddie’s restrain loosen and tears slid down his face. He doesn’t want to cry but there are voices that play in his ears, screaming destructive thoughts in his head.

_“Then why aren’t you trying to make this right?”_

Eddie is fully sobbing now, it’s all too much. The brush of Richie’s thumbs on his cheeks to wipe those pathetic tears away, the tenderness in his eyes; this all cumulative to make it harder for him to make this decision but he has to.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie repeats. And he’s not only sorry for breaking this up, he is sorry for everything. For putting them in this mess and possibly jeopardizing their friendship.

“Don’t.” Richie says then this time when he leans closer to his face, he doesn’t hesitate when he presses his lips onto Eddie’s and they kiss. A hurried kind like there’s no more time left in this world; in a way this is true. This is not a kiss that will start a fire all over again, to take centre in Eddie’s life once more; it’s a start of a goodbye.

The kiss slowly regresses to brief touches of their lips, Eddie’s soft one against the slightly chapped rough brushes of Richie’s. Then Richie leans back to give him a soft smile that seems a bit forced and Eddie couldn’t help the thought running wildly in his head. They speak of the things he wishes he could say out loud.

 _“Say you’ll do better and I’ll change my mind,”_ he wants to say but keeps his mouth shut as Richie pulls him into a hug. He clings onto his ex-boyfriend tightly. Now that there’s no turning back it seems every part of him craves for Richie in desperation.

“We’re still friends right?” Richie asks, effectively landing a sucker punch to his chest – seriously, it hurts. – Eddie nods his head numbly, feeling the tickle of Richie’s hair at the side of his neck.

_“I don’t want to be just your friend. Ask me to change my mind and I’ll do it.”_

Richie pulls away from the hug and again he cups his face and stares at him with that same tender look. One that he seldom shows Eddie before and it plants a seed of doubt in his mind; whether he’s making the wrong decision - whether he’s giving up the fight too soon. -

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he says before landing a kiss on his forehead. Then, he ruffles Eddie’s hair briefly before standing up and heads to the door.

Eddie watches as the long-limbed boy walk away. He wants to stop him but doesn’t really know what for. He traces the line of his back, at the hunch of his shoulders as he retreats behind the door. He fights the urge to scream at him, for leaving him conflicted.

_“Why did you say that if you don’t mean it?”_

_“Turn around. Please turn around and say you want me.”_

_“Turn around and fight for me.”_

He doesn’t and Eddie watches the door close completely with a slight bang that signifies a closing chapter in their story.


	2. Richie

Richie blinks his eyes repeatedly at the ceiling above him. Trying to adjust his vision to the surrounding in the absence of his glasses is not an easy feat, especially when he couldn’t even remember where he is at the very minute. He looks through the bare window, at the dark sky, and wonders why he is up so early in the morning for. He sits, and then sweeps his hand in between his body and the couch to search for his glasses. He finds it stuck between the folds of the leather couch and puts them on, his vision clearing along with his memories. That’s right, he’s at Olivia’s apartment; had camped out in the living room for the past 2 days along with the other guys as they had worked throughout the night to complete their short film assignment. There are three heads down on the floor below him; his classmates sprawled over the white fur carpet with a piece of thin blankets spread tightly to accommodate their long limbed bodies.

This brings to his mind the various sleepovers he has had with the losers when he was younger. It never mattered that there was never enough pillows or blankets to spare for 6 boys; there were always that feeling of adventure in the air as they fought over who gets to sleep on the bed. Usually it was the host and a loser who had won rock, paper, scissors or Eddie as he was the smallest and therefore prone to getting sympathy from their other friends. Richie feels a sense of warmth spreads throughout his body as he thinks of Eddie, his boyfriend, and who he is sure the sweetest person he has ever known. So sweet that even his mother, Maggie, adores him despite her never ending drunken stupor.

Speaking of his mother, he recalls his phone waking him up earlier and a sinking feeling comes over him. The only person who would call him this early would be his mother. It is never good news when she calls him at this time instead of sleeping off her routine wine session that would leave her immobilized on the bed until the early afternoon the next day. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table with a heavy heart, nowhere ready to hear what she has in store for him, probably about his dad – _always about his dad._ – He pads silently across the living room to the balcony door. The glass door slides elegantly behind him as he steps outside into the cold air.

Richie extracts his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and takes a sit at one of the chairs. He knows he needs some sort of mellowing out before he could find the nerve to talk to Maggie. He leans his head back against the chair and then begins sucking in the intoxicating smoke, mind relaxing little by little. He drags it out, savouring the synthetic calmness as he listens to the sound of the city that never sleeps, down below from the 18th floor. Finally, the cigarette dies down. Richie reluctantly stubs it on the ashtray and picks up his phone. He looks at the number on the screen; he was right, it is his mother. He presses the call button and waits for Maggie to pick it up, the temporary calmness brought by the cigarette doesn’t last and he feels the rise of agitation building in even before he even heard her voice.

“Richard,” comes Maggie’s taut voice. There’s always a hint of paranoia in his mother’s voice after she had a little much too drink. Richie would have laughed at that if it isn’t for the fact how pathetic it is.

“Ya Ma, what do you want?” he responds, already fed-up.

“Where were you? Why didn’t you pick up the phone?” she asks accusatorily.

Richie rolls his eyes, “It’s 3am Ma, I was asleep. Why are you calling me so early?” he asks.

 _“Ran out of wine?”_ he fights down his instinct to be petty.

“It’s your dad,” she states.

Shocker. When hasn’t it been about his dad? That’s the only thing she’s interested in speaking to Richie about. Never how are you son? Have you had your meal? Do you have enough money out there in New York? I miss you Richie. Never of those; it’s always your dad this, your dad that. It’s sad how obsessed she is with that asshole. Like what is it with that motherfucker? A golden dick? But then again they have been separated for 9 years and he never once saw Wentworth ever showing any signs of wanting Maggie back. It is always her that’s always so desperate and it’s embarrassing to Richie how she never seems to get over it.

“What about him?” he asks completely uninterested.

“He wants to cut the monthly cheque to half. He’s getting married,” Maggie says and suddenly she is tearful on the other side of the line.

Richie frowns at the news. His dad really is an asshole. He knows well his mother wouldn’t be able to get by if he cuts the monthly alimony to half. He knows very well about her never having any work experience before, having had Richie when she was 18 years old and he was 25.  He feels the clench of anger in his chest, taking his breath away and also an urge to punch something. It doesn’t help that his mother is borderline hysterical now. Richie couldn’t help but to feel bad and also mad at her at the same time. He hates it when she gets all helpless like this. It’s like get yourself together, what the fuck?

“What do you want me to do then? Get a job!” he almost shouts, gripping the phone tightly.

“Richard, you know I can’t. I don’t know what to do,” She wails.

Richie clenches his jaw, hard, fighting the urge to curse not only at her but at Wentworth as well. Fuck them for putting him in this position. For always making him stuck in the middle of their endless drama.

“If you have hands and feet, then you can work,” he tells her, feeling as if he’s talking to a child.

“Richard, you know how weak I get. I can’t,” she continues, further adding fuel to the rage slowly burning inside her son.

 _“Why, cus you can’t function without your drinks?”_ if what he wishes he could spit out to her. Instead he focusses on his own feeling of helplessness in the situation, getting his frustration out in the open, hoping she would understand that no; he doesn’t want to get involved in this.

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do Ma?!” Richie is fully shouting this time. Not caring if anyone hears him at this point.

“Call your dad and tell him to reconsider. He’ll listen to you,” Maggie suggests.

Richie pauses then exhales a humourless laugh at that. Yeah right, despite the fact that they haven’t spoken to each other over the last 3 years; their last conversation being his father asking him when his 18th birthday was because he wanted to cut off the child support payment.

“Ma, you know that’s bullshit right? I don’t think he even remembers my name, get real,” he says, voice thick with emotion.

Maggie however is not taking the hint behind Richie’s dejected voice, so consumed in her own tragedy that she fails to take in the hidden emotions embedded in his son’s words. “Say you need money for school,” she adds, as if it is that simple.

Richie feels his agitation building up again. He wonders where his mother gets the idea that Wenthworth actually cares about his studies. He never even asks him where he is interested in enrolling to after high school. Richie doubts that he knows where he is at the moment. The only help he has had financially when he was just starting out in NYU was from the trust that his grandfather has set up for him, which became available once he turned 18. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough for the 4 years (1 more year left now) he intends to spend at NYU before heading off to California. Then there is also the art scholarship he had received to enable him to enrol in NYU in the first place. Not to mention the various part time jobs he had before landing a permanent spot at the radio station and, again the money isn’t much but sufficient to get him along.

Sounds like someone could learn a lesson about hard work.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No! I’m not gonna call him and ask for money. Do it yourself,” Richie yells on the phone.

“Richard, how could you,” Maggie says, hurt pouring out from her voice.

But Richie doesn’t care, too pissed off at her attempts to make him the scapegoat because she was too content on being the victim.

“I’m not doing it. Like I said, get a job Ma, or get a rich husband, I don’t care. And please don’t call me if you have nothing else to talk about other than him. Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it,” he says and then abruptly cuts off the conversation.

The phone rings not even 3 seconds later and Richie slides to end the call immediately. Then to make a point, he turns off his phone. He shoves the object on the table as if it has offended him.  His face is a picture of frustration, complemented by the hard lines on his forehead, effectively making him look much older than his 21 years of age. 

Richie exhales tiredly and reaches for his cigarette once more. He inhales heavily with eyes close and head leaning on the metal frame of the chair.

Assholes, the two of them. Just assholes.

*****

It’s around 10pm that Richie finally arrives at his empty dorm room. Bill must have been out with Stan, as usual. He wonders whether Eddie is with the couple and he hopes that he is considering that he has been spending a lot of time away from 1/2 of the losers due to having to complete his group assignment. The group assignment that is due next week. In his estimation, they have only completed like 75% of it – _they are so screwed_. -  At least they’ve completed their activities log, made easy by the lecturer simple demand of wanting them to upload the pictures of their discussions in Instagram and hash tagging it with #mrwaltzisacoolcat. He had uploaded the pictures on his Instagram account using Olivia’s phone, still incense with his mother that he left his phone turned off since their conversation this morning. He knows that he wouldn’t be able resist telling his mother off if he saw the multiple calls that he is sure she is making to reach him. It’s not going to help the situation, not for him and certainly not Maggie. He decides he’ll talk to her when she’s ready.

But then, turning off the phone doesn’t really help quell the anger he has towards the whole situation. Instead that was all he thinks about, resulting in him getting distracted and pretty much useless to work with. It’s another thing that needs checking off in his ever growing list but tonight he’s simply too exhausted to address it completely.

Richie plops down on the bed, the activities and the stress of the day weighing him down; both physically and mentally. He lets his fatigue dissipates, feeling it slowly seeps through his fingertips. He turns his head sideway and inhales dreamily at his pillow, smelling like the lavender fabric softener that Eddie had forced him to get after finding out that Richie have been using only the generic detergent provided by the laundry.

“ _I don’t see what’s the difference Eds. They all smell the same to me,” he had complained when Eddie dragged him to the detergent aisle in the store._

_“No they don’t. This one would make your clothes feels better. Trust me,” Eddie said._

_“You only say that because you want my hoodies to feel better on you, isn’t it?” Richie had teased the brown haired boy._

_“No, I don’t” Eddie denied, flushing at getting caught. Cute, cute, cute._

_“Fine, I’ll get the damn,” he squinted at the small letterings, “Lavender Paradise,” he adds._

_“You would?” Eddie asked and then gave Richie that soft smile of his which sends tremors down his chest. Then when Richie leaned down to kiss his right cheek, his adorable apple cheeks (the roundness that never quite left his face), Eddie had turned into a literal tomato._

And Eddie had been right, his clothes do feels better on him, not as scratchy and stiff as they used to be and Richie has on multiple occasions seen his boyfriend wearing his hoodies. Devious little fox, he does want his hoodies to feel better on him. Not that Richie would complain because Eddie always looks so adorable in his clothes. The kind of adorable that sends Richie biting on his lips while he ignores the urge to push him on the wall, kiss him hard while running his fingers through that soft hair of his. He sighs contently as Eddie’s face appears in his mind. There’s just something about Eddie that makes his chest lighter and his head less turbulent. He can’t deny that whenever he sees Eddie’s face, he always feel this instant calm, like he could run into a pack of wolves and everything would turn out okay.

Richie treasures it. However, he is afraid of it all the same. Afraid of how much power Eddie has over him to make him feel that way. A power that Richie is afraid to tell Eddie he has. But then, again, this feels like a question that he can think about another day. Another thing to check off from his list and that’s what he’s gonna do; put it at the back of his mind, ignore and repeat.

Richie rises up and yawns loudly, wanting nothing more to sleep but not feeling comfortable enough to do it without a shower first. It’s been a long day and they have been parading around downtown to do their shootings, he can’t imagine the type of germs clinging onto his body. Simultaneously feeling momentary sadness at how much he is turning into an old man as this would never bother him when he was much younger.

Richie extracts his belongings from his backpack and dumps them on the bed. He sorts out through the random papers and begins putting them into a file, to save him from the heart attack of not being able to find the materials when he needs them this coming Monday. They have expected a maximum overdrive on Monday, deciding to give themselves the weekend to relax after a full week of hard work – _which they actually don’t have to if they were able to pull their asses out of their head and stop procrastinating but hey what’s done is done. –_ He opens his note book to write down some outline for their report. He scribbles down the date, September 18th and then pauses. Why does he feel like there is something he has forgotten? Something that’s suddenly gnawing on his skin, making him rake his brain for something that he can’t put an image on? September 18th, Friday; what is it?

But at last, he shrugs it off, too exhausted to utilize his brain to its full capacity. He scribbles down the outlines quickly and then stuffs his notebook back in his backpack – _out of sight out of mind_ – and picks up his phone, turns it on and puts it in charge, determinedly refusing to look at the screen as it loads up. Then he heads out to the communal bathroom, whistling emotionlessly, only for something to occupy his mind with.

*****

Richie checks his phone and cringes at the 42 missed calls notification on his screen. Almost half of it is from his mother while the rest are mix of the losers’ number. He scrolls through the notification and sees the recent one from Beverly. He quickly dials her number, curious on the sense of urgency portrayed. The line is picked up instantaneously.

“You piece of shit!” Richie doesn’t make it to a hello when Beverly answers, voice penetrating through the speaker, so loud that Richie can feel the extent of her anger all the way from wherever she is to his dorm room.

Richie is simply taken aback at her burst of anger, doesn’t know what he did to deserve that. “Beverly, what the fuck?” he asks in bewilderment.

“You’re a fucking asshole Richie Tozier! I swear I would punch you in the face if you’re in front of me right now,” she continues with her tirade.

Richie swallows nervously at the fact that this is the first time that Beverly had ever been this angry at him and he wonders what he could have done to account to such burning wrath. He hears someone in the background calling out to Beverly, voice equally shocked as Richie’s had been a few seconds ago. It doesn’t take him much to guess that it’s Ben’s.

“No Ben. He needs to hear this,” he hears Beverly says. He also hears the murmurs of voices as if they’re in a crowded place.

“Tell me Richie, do you hate Eddie?” Beverly asks.

It’s another blow to the Trashmouth who sits on the bed, stunned at the unexpected question. “What are you talking about? Eddie’s my boyfriend. Of course I don’t hate him,” he answers with a frown.

“Then why the fuck would you do this today? Out of all the day you can fuck up. Why is it today Richie?!” Beverly yells, voice somehow getting louder.

Richie grips tightly on the phone, getting irritated at Beverly’s open-endedness, he honestly have no idea what the hell is going on. And he has had a very bad day and doesn’t need the redhead to be giving him shit as well. “Look Bev, I don’t appreciate you being rude to me right now. It’s either you tell me what the fuck is going on or I’m hanging up,” he warns.

He hears Beverly laughing humourlessly at the end of the line and he feels annoyed at her for acting as if he’s stupid, his instincts midway between wanting to hang up on her and also wanting to give her a chance to explain herself.

“I don’t know whether you’re being real right now or you’re just acting stupid. Why didn’t you show up Richie? Eddie’s devastated,” Beverly says.

“Show up to where? Is Eddie at San Francisco right now? What is going on?” Richie says, frustrated.

“It’s his birthday, you dipshit!” Beverly yells.

Then just like that it clicks in his head, that’s right, September 18th, Eddie’s birthday. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! How could he forget? Shit, he feels so terrible right now.

“Oh shit, that’s today isn’t it? Oh Bev, oh fuck, I forgot. It’s just that I have a very long day…” he wants to explain but is however cut off by Beverly.

“Really? Not too busy to hang out with some girl today, aren’t you? We have this planed for months Richie and for you to say that you forget, sorry, I don’t buy it.”

“Bev, you have to trust me, please,” he pleads, heart aching at the thought that his friend would think he would do this on purpose.

“No. How could you Richie?  Does making him sad make you happy? And how fucking cruel are you that you would post pictures with some random girl when you know your boyfriend could see it,” She continues, not caring to hear his side of the story.

“If I don’t know any better Richie, I would have thought that you genuinely hated him.  And I get it, your whole open relationship thing but it doesn’t mean you get to treat him this way,” she resumes with the guilt trip.

“Bev, I’m really sorry. I wanna make it up to him. Where is he?” Richie says, his face burning with regret.

“No, you are not coming here. You don’t get to do this and then turn up and pretend that everything is okay. You know he’s just gonna act like what you did doesn’t bother him. Have a little compassion Richie, give him a break for having to accommodate your feelings all the time. He needs that, not you right now. In fact don’t bother showing up tomorrow, you make me sick,” she spits out vehemently.

Richie shrinks at Beverly’s rage fuelled tirade. She always has a temper behind that cool girl persona; a temper that would show up occasionally when she’s really pissed off. Now that same anger is being directed at him and so accurately justified makes Richie feels so small and useless.

“Bev, please,” he begs.

“No Richie, don’t. I don’t know how you could make this right anymore and whatever it is, whether Eddie forgives you or not, it’ll be up to him. Just know that you could spend your whole life searching for someone like Eddie but nothing is gonna come close to what you have with him,” then she hangs up the phone.

Richie hangs his head down, his chest clenching painfully as Beverly’s disappointed voice rings in his ears even after their conversation has ended. He knows he’s in the wrong and the horribleness of what he did creeps up to him, sending waves of guilt to shoot at every inch of his bare skin. Eddie’s face materialises and Richie could envision Eddie somewhere out there with grief in his eyes because of what he did to him. 

Fuck, how could so many things turned out so wrong in the span of one day?

*****

The click from the doorknob startles Richie from his inner thoughts, effectively making him aware that he has been sitting on the bed for quite sometimes, still in his boxer because his phone call with Beverly have left him with a lot to think about. Bill and Stan appear, the latter carrying a container filled with birthday cakes. Richie sits still, nervously waiting for their reaction. One look at him and Bill frowns and his mouth tightens to a thin line. Meanwhile Stan just looks at him casually, poker faced as he shrugs off his coat and lays it on the bed.

“Hey Richie,” he says and gesture the container to him. Richie declines.

Richie is decidedly uncomfortable at Bill’s silence, evident by how he pointedly turn his back towards the bespectacled boy and takes his sweet time in undoing his Converse’s laces. Richie swallows the moisture stuck in his throat and gives Stan a look of total helplessness. His best friend however seems oblivious to the message he’s trying to put across.

Richie decides to break the awkward silence, “Um how was the party?” he asks.

It’s the wrong thing to say apparently because as soon as the words come out of his mouth, Bill swerves his head so fast that Richie’s actually concerned that he’s gonna break his neck.

“Seriously, you have the nerve to ask that?” Bill says, eyes burning with dislike towards him that even Stan visibly grows nervous as his eyes flicker between his boyfriend and his best friend.

“It’s just a question Bill,” Richie says, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Oh, my apology. It was great, just celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday,” Bill says.

Richie isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being sarcastic. He almost wants to get up from the bed just to avoid the fight that is coming, but, his feet seems to have a mind of its own, forcing him to stay put as if glued.

“Except, the part where you made him cry on his own birthday. But other than that it was fantastic,” Bill continues with a voice so bitter that makes Stan takes a double look.

“Bill,” he warns but the aforementioned boy just shrugs his shoulders. 

Stan looks at Richie pitifully but doesn’t try to correct his boyfriend. And Richie, he knows this is a fight that he shouldn’t mind to lose because he deserves this. Besides, Eddie is Bill’s oldest best friend and the latter is always a little more protective towards Eddie compared to the other losers. Richie wouldn’t deny that Eddie is some sort of a surrogate brother for the aspiring writer who has lost his own, Georgie, who was 6 during the summer of 2010. Richie knows whatever explanation he has would fall on deaf ears because when it comes to Eddie, Bill will get defensive.

He remembers how defiantly Bill had rejected the idea of Eddie and Richie being in an open relationship. He remembers his weeks of stony silence - _as a sign of protest_ – directed at him until Eddie had pulled him aside and basically asked Bill to stay out of their business. Bill caved eventually but there’s always this mistrust for Richie that he never says out loud, obvious only to Richie, never to Eddie. He knows Richie would fuck it up somehow – _being it’s already a fragile thing in the first place_ – and he is right. Richie knows he had fucked up.

“Look, I know what I did was terrible. But there’s just so much that I had to deal with today that it simply slipped my mind. But I’m not doing it on purpose,” Richie tries to tell his side of the story.

“Was the thing you have to deal with named Olivia? Yeah, she seemed like a handful,” Bill doesn’t care and Richie sighs.

“Bill,” Stan hisses but is ignored.

Richie just mouth an _“it’s okay_ ” to Stan who is standing beside his boyfriend, gripping his forearm tightly, clearly afraid of something more that could potentially erupt in the small room. He knows the two boys well, knows they aren’t above a physical altercation.

“It’s not what you think. We were just trying to finish our assignment and I was just distracted with the amount of work I need to do. You guys know how it is, right?”

“But do you really have to turn off your phone? Seemed to me like you’re trying really hard to make it impossible to reach you, as if you want us not to be able to remind you about your boyfriend’s birthday,” Bill bites back with an emphasis on the word ‘your boyfriend.’

Richie finally has enough. “And it seemed to me like you’re trying really hard not to believe me,” voice increasing slightly making Stan more nervous at the tension grows across the room.

Bill narrows his eyes at Richie, fists clenching at his sides and Richie fights back, refusing to break eye contact even though his heart clench painfully at the aggression directed towards him.

“Guys, stop it,” Stan walks up and situates himself between the two boys. “You’re friends remember. Act that way,” Stan says.

Bill sighs heavily and does the secret communication thing with his boyfriend. It’s like a bargain process with Stan subtle head shake and Bill’s stubborn frown but the latter relents. He sighs heavily and his posture relaxes.

“Look Richie, I just feel bad for Eddie ok. I know I have no right in interfering with your relationship but if Stan were to do that to me, I will be so fucking pissed,” he says.

Richie stares down at the floor in shame from the sincerity of Bill’s admission. “I know, I feel bad too, God Bill, you don’t know how terrible I feel right now,” Richie confesses.

Bill just looks at him in disappointment, making Richie wishes for a hole to disappear into. “You treat Eddie like a pet Richie,” Bill blurts out.

Richie is speechless, doesn’t know how to respond to that. So he just waits for further explanation from his friends.

“You come and you leave, whenever you please. Cus you know he’s gonna be there waiting for you. No questions asked,” Bill continues.

“Bill,” Richie says but Bill shakes his head resolutely.

“No, let me finish. I think you know how I feel about this whole open relationship thing. I don’t like it but again, it’s not my place to tell you and Eddie what to do, you’re both adult. But do you ever take the time to consider that maybe it’s not really a good idea? Not for you, for Eddie. I know he’ll never says it and he’s gonna kill me if he knows I’m even bringing this up right now but you know he has never slept with anyone else right?” Bill asks.

Anything that Richie thinks he wants to say dies down in his throat and he chooses to tap his feet instead as a way to ground himself.

“So tell me, does it really look like he’s having a good time?” Bill grills further.

This struck Richie hard; to have this out in the open so carelessly, the elephant in the room that has always been pushed aside. The truth he always strikes off as not important enough to be acknowledged because if Eddie never says anything about it then it can’t be bad right? But then again he isn’t the type to pour out his feelings so freely. Sure he’ll joke around, no problem crossing the lines for some cheap laugh but he would rather eat needles than to be honest.

He dodges the question and offers another explanation in its place, “I had a really bad day ok, my mum called and,” he offers, clenching and unclenching his fists anxiously when Stan cuts him off.

“Ok, that’s enough. Bill, maybe you should go take a shower. Clean yourself up,” he says softly to his boyfriend.

Bill obliges, perhaps sensing there’s no point in carrying this even longer. He walks out of the room with his towel and toiletries after giving Stan a kiss on the top of his head. Then it’s just Richie and Stan in the room and Richie feels like he can breathe freely again, definitely more comfortable in the company of his best friend.

“It’s really that bad huh?” Stan asks, in the know of the whole situation with his mother. The only one Richie really divulge with what goes on behind closed door at his house. The other losers know about the turbulent relationship with his parents but only Stan knows the severity of the situation. But then again, there’s still a lot that Richie never discloses.

“Nothing new Stan. Just the same old story,” Richie says humourlessly. He runs his hands through his hair tiredly, “How’s Eddie? I really do feel bad Stan,” he doesn’t know why he keeps on repeating it but he just wants someone to trust him on this. He does feel bad about forgetting Eddie’s birthday.

“He was sad, I’m not gonna lie. And he did cry and that wasn’t so nice to see. But he seemed fine when we dropped him off at his room,” Stan tells him.

“Maybe I should go and see him. Apologise.” Richie decides.

Stan shakes his head, “Or maybe you should just give him some space,” he suggests. And it doesn’t really sounds like a suggestion, more of an instruction. Stan is someone he listens to so he retreats to his bed and pick up his phone.

“I think I’m gonna give him a call,” he says and Stan offers him nothing but a small smile. Then he leaves the room; his intention clear, for Richie to have this moment alone to talk to Eddie.

*****

Richie lies awake in the darkened room, body drenched with sweat and music blaring from the earphone that he forgets to take off before he had fallen asleep. It’s 16°c outside but the room feels suffocating with the heat that he is sure comes from what is brewing inside of him. His mind takes him back to what has happened just a few hours ago; Eddie breaking up with him. It feels so surreal but it happened and Richie couldn’t decide what to think about it. He is somewhere between shocked and resigned. He kinda expected this outcome to be honest. Eddie’s behaviour over the last week is a good indicator of that.

Stan’s suggestion to leave Eddie alone resulted in him ignoring his phone calls for a week. He hasn’t made any attempt to look for him at his dorm room as well because first, of what Stan had said and second, he doesn’t know what to do. All he had hope for was for Eddie to find it in his heart to respond to his calls or messages so they can work it out.

Furthermore, he has been doing a lot of thinking, especially in regards to what Bill had told him the night of Eddie’s birthday. He doesn’t know quite how to address the feelings that’s been gnawing on his conscience since. He never really took the time to really ponder on the consequences that could come with their open relationship status. But, since the question was raised, he could no longer ignore the thing that he’s always been aware of; how unfair it is for Eddie.  

When it comes to Eddie, Richie notices a lot.  Like the way Eddie would stare at him sometimes when he thought Richie wasn’t watching, and how Eddie always speaks to him in a voice that is gentler than with everyone else. He also notices how Eddie would gaze shyly down his lap with cheeks tinted red every time Richie gave him a kiss. He knows how Eddie would leave feather light kisses all over his face when he thought Richie is sleeping during the nights they spent together in the same bed. Eddie’s feelings have always been up on his sleeves, so clear that Richie can’t pretend that isn’t there. So obvious that it makes him nervous. Hesitant as well because he’s always in question on whether he can give that to Eddie. There’s always that voice in his mind that tells him no, he can’t.

He notices all of this but his mouth remains shut, afraid to open himself up because that’s how you become vulnerable. And to be vulnerable means to be weak; just look at his mother.

However it didn’t stop him from feeling devastated when Eddie had made a point to run away from him when they finally run into each other some few days ago. He had called and called but the boy kept on running. Stan had pat him on his back and said “Give him more time. He’s not ready.”

Richie had given him time, almost a week of it and had gotten desperate. Bill had returned to somewhat normal, _\- a little bit better compared to Beverly who is still pissed off at him_ \- but not Eddie, which is understandable but doesn’t make it any less hard.

So after days of begging Stan to help him to get Eddie to talk to him, it felt like a dream when Stan has agreed and Eddie subsequently letting him entered their room. He remembers Eddie in his matching grey sweater and sweatpants; how nervous he had seemed to Richie. He remembers pulling Eddie into his arms, smelling his shampoo, and the softness of his body, and his ex-boyfriend – _yeah ex-boyfriend_ , _it’ so surreal to Richie that he is referring to Eddie as that now -_ instantly went stiff. It tugged at his heartstrings so he let go a bit quicker that he had intended. Eddie had a sort of hesitant look on his face and it mirrored what Richie was feeling as his lips hovered over Eddie’s, not sure whether he could proceed. His trepidation was answered when Eddie pushed him away gently. In that instant, Richie was sure on where they were heading. However, when Eddie had finally said the word, the one that signalled their finality, it still took his breath away.

When the word _“I’m sorry,”_ had come out from Eddie’s mouth, Richie wanted nothing more than to just crumble on the floor. Because no, Eddie did nothing wrong. The only person who was in the wrong is himself. Eddie had cried and there was so much tear that it killed him a little bit inside. To think that he had brought so much pain to the one person who had always cared a little bit more about him than anyone else. Beverly was right; he would never get someone like Eddie. He was just too good for him, too perfect that it was never Richie’s place to stand beside him. So he had told Eddie just that, plus a little more; the things he had never confessed before and hoped that would be enough consolation for the boy.

It ended with brushes of Eddie’s tears away, a last kiss, then a hug that led to a promise of friendship and Richie had left. Except, Richie didn’t feel as if he was walking, more like guided on sheer instinct alone that finally get him back to his dorm room. Bill and Stan were on the bed, in each other arms and when Richie had entered the room they both sat up in alertness.

“Eddie broke up with me,” Richie declared, unable to hold off the cutting silence anymore. They would know eventually.

“Oh,” had been Stan’s response. It was like he had expected that. Richie couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter about his best friend’s blasé response.

“I’m sorry to hear that man,” Bill said and Richie smiled at him a little before taking off his jeans and then getting got under the covers over the bed, his back facing the couple. He stuffed his earphones in his ears, to signal that he didn’t want to talk and then he spent maybe hours listening to the music while staring at something that only his eyes could see before finally drifting off to a restless slumber.

And now he’s awake and desperately needs a cigarette. So he reaches for one and then walks to the door, carefully to not disturb Stan who is sleeping on the bed and Bill who is sprawled over the futon on the floor. He closes the door behind him and heads to the staircase which is deserted as it is just after midnight. He plops down the last step and lights up. He sucks on it desperately, dragging every inhale and exhale, the heaviness in his heart feels contained. Richie leans his head on the wall and looks out to the courtyard. He remembers the rush he had felt during the first time he had walked into his dorm room with his best friends by his side; Bill, Stan and Eddie. How everything had felt so within his grasps then. He remembers the sparkle in Eddie’s eyes when he told him that they have made it. They have left Derry, hopefully forever and they’re going to make it big. Back then Richie didn’t know what it had meant, he still doesn’t knows what it means now but it have never occurred to him that Eddie could potentially be out of the picture. He always thinks that Eddie would be a part of his life for a very long time. It’s never under any set condition such as platonically or romantically; in his mind, Eddie will just be there.

Now, Richie isn’t sure anymore. And it’s painful and he wishes he could turn back the time. He should have never dated Eddie in the first place; should have never proposed the whole open relationship.

The thing is, Richie is selfish. Eddie is special he is always aware of that; the kind of special that could never be replicated. He’s the only person that exists in his daydream; the only person that sets butterflies flying rampant at the bottom of his stomach every time he sees him smile.

However, Richie has always been afraid of a relationship, and in extension, love. Ever since he could understand the destruction it could unleash upon a person, the vulnerability that leaves them bare and weak at the hands of someone who could decide not to care.

See, Richie was 16 years old when he decided he didn’t believe in love. It  hit him out of nowhere on a Sunday afternoon while lying on his bed, the tremor of the bass from his headphone vibrating his skull; anything to drown out the sound of his parents arguing in the living room. What was the point of love when eventually everything just falls apart? What was the point of it when in time the feeling just fades? His parents used to love each other – _maybe_ – and now they can’t stand to even be in the same room, well his dad more so than his mum.

How fast thing changed, he thought back then. He remembers all the times his father used to buy his mother a bouquet of flower every Thursday for their weekly date night. He remembers his mother dressing up, looking so beautiful in his young mind and his father sliding a 20 in his pocket and then told him to go find his friends. Back then, he was just excited with the prospect of what he could get with that much money – _comic books, CDs and video games, movies with the losers; the world was his for the taking –_ but as he got older and the dates night started to become less frequent and finally stopping all together, he came to understand the significance of it all. It left him wondering but then he was too young to put on too much emphasis over the fact that his parents weren’t spending as much time together like how they used to. It was too late when it finally felt like a distant memory. Then what was left was a person – _his dad_ – trying every excuse in the book to not be in the house and another person who tried to drown her misery with alcohol – _his mum_. – When thing has progressed into a much worse territory, he was then forced to take a side _– when he didn’t want to. –_ He knew his dad didn’t actually cared about him; he only wanted to hurt his mum while his mum wanted him because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning.

It was never about him.

He was 13 when his dad decided to leave. It was a Monday afternoon.  He recalls coming back from school and seeing him carrying the luggage to his car and his mother crying in the kitchen. He was told to go to his room. He went to Stan’s instead, with face drenched with tears and his right knees scraped from tripping down the sidewalk. He returned that night, in a quiet house with no dinner and a mother who was passed out drunk in her room. Richie had pull up his sleeves and started up the stove for boxed mac and cheese, eating alone in the dining room. His dad never did say goodbye and they never really explained to him what was going on. They just expected him to understand and deal with it.

Then there were the times spent crying on the phone, asking his dad when he could finally visit him in Vermont, only to have him say “no, can’t do buddy,” and the reasons were plenty; work, travel and there was even the times when his dad simply said that he was tired.  With his mum getting full custody, he seldom saw his dad, – _it never occurred to him back then that this was intentional_. - He remembers that ache in his heart as he then cried himself to sleep; another rejection that shattered his young heart, all because he just wanted to see his dad so bad. He stopped asking when his mum had told him that his dad was at Florida with a girlfriend to celebrate Christmas after declining his wish to see him during the holidays. And this eventually built up his understanding regarding his place in his dad’s life. With it he swore he would never ask again. 

He did go through the period of grief that made him wondered whether it was him. That somehow it was his fault that his parents decided for a separation.  Richie never got the full answer and sometimes when he was acting difficult and his mum couldn’t take it anymore, she spilled out the exact doubts he had in his mind. And it broke his heart all the time and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to hide under his blanket and cry. Or when it got too much, he would always ran to Stan – _for a shoulder to cry on_ – or Eddie _– for a happy distraction_. –

That was all he had to hold on to, his best friends. He could never rely on his mum for support. Not when she was always in constant mourning over an ex-husband who never cared. Richie hated how he was never allowed to criticize his dad or point out what a shitty father he was. Somehow, despite his dad’s obvious cruel treatment towards them, his mum still remained hopeful that someday he would come back. It made him bitter – _and he admits this_ – and he came to resent her. He remembered being the verbal punching bag for all of her drunken grievances; how she would tell Richie that maybe they shouldn’t have had him, how his dad never wanted a child in the first place. He had no choice but to shoulder through it. Maybe he could have pretended that what she has said wasn’t the truth but he wasn’t naïve. The thing about a drunken confession is that it’s simply a confession. On those nights where his mum’s truest reflection of him came into display, Richie listened to them and began accepting the concept that he was never wanted.

Sometimes he felt this rage inside of him, a burning rage that made him want to hurt them (him mum and his dad) for creating him. They had a choice, there was no obligations to bring him into this world, they could have been more careful. His resentment grew a little bit more each day.

However, despite everything, he still loves his parents, even when sometimes he feels so much intense hatred for them. It is so fucked up how hard he tries to escape from all the drama but at the end getting sucked up into it all just the same because he could never leave his mum hanging for too long, eventually answering her calls and listening to her complains about his dad. Sometimes, he would stalk his dad’s Facebook just to see how he’s doing. He hates himself for doing this and has come to the conclusion that this is what love is capable of doing to a person. This is why it is the most dangerous weapon one could carry.

Richie decided that it was too much trouble than its worth. He decided that he didn’t want it.

But that’s where the problem lies, Eddie exists. Despite his determination not to let love disrupt his life, he couldn’t deny the effects Eddie have onto him. He can’t deny the attraction that is there, at the boy whom had been one of his best friends ever since he was 6 years old.

Richie couldn’t remember when Eddie has transformed into that someone he sees differently than everyone else. He guesses it has been slow, quiet, and just captured him out of nowhere. How beautiful Eddie had seemed to him that one time during English class, when he had turned his head towards the back of the classroom to smile at Richie who was sitting at the last corner on the far left. “Wow,” that was the word that has appeared in his mind and from there onwards he began seeing Eddie in a different light. A light he was scared to address and act on because he knows what leaving your heart open to someone could do and he just, he couldn’t. He was careful with the information of what Eddie meant to him, however sometimes he can’t resist and it slips through his banters that sometimes got a little flirtatious and how each and every time Eddie would bite back with tenacity but be blushing all the same, making his heart sinks when he thinks on how he couldn’t reciprocate. He tended to brush Eddie’s hidden reaction as nothing more than mortification from being teased.

He would have never anticipated Eddie to tell him that he liked him during that one party in the summer 2 years ago. They were hanging out outside, Richie wanted nothing more to smoke and Eddie was willing to accompany him. He had said it without preamble and Richie was speechless. They had descended into silence, only the sound from the party to make them aware that they weren’t the only one in this universe. Eddie was clutching at the hem of his jumper, biting the insides of his cheeks but his eyes never wavered - _always the brave one between the two of them_. –

Richie had wanted to reject him. But then again how could he say no; he couldn’t, not when Eddie was looking at him with those big brown eyes of his – _bambi eyes -_ flicker of hope so evident behind them. Oh, how he wished he could just straight up kiss him back then. Because _“yes Eddie, I like you too,”_ was what he wished he could say without hesitation. But there was that promise he made to himself when he was 16. So he decided to tell Eddie some part of the truth; that he liked him as well but he didn’t think he wanted to give up being free to sleep with whoever he wants. So he proposed an open relationship where Eddie could be his boyfriend but they can sleep with anyone they want. He intended to make light of the situation, so that Eddie wouldn’t be embarrassed at his subtle rejection. However, what he never expected was for Eddie to take it into consideration though, with earnest contemplation that made him wanted to throw up because what have he done?

_"Come on Eddie, I’m giving you an out. Take it.”_

_“Take it and run as far away as you can.”_

When Eddie had said yes, he didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t want to hurt this boy that he cared about so much. Then when they kissed for the first time, less than a minute after, Richie couldn’t deny how wonderful it had felt; the softness of Eddie’s lips and the taste of his mouth, so intoxicating that it made Richie thinks that maybe this could work. His delusion was further amplified when Eddie had told him that they should just see how it would go.

That delusion carried them into a 2 years relationship. Richie never considers they would go that far, kinda expecting it to die down once Eddie realised that he was making true to the open relationship premise. Eddie had stuck through it instead; through his parade of one-night standers and his purposed refusal to be vulnerable towards the boy. Eddie didn’t deserve that kind of treatment but he just wanted to make his feelings toward him simmer down and eventually dies because Richie couldn’t provide to him the kind of love that he should have. Even when there’s no denying that there was no one that could compare to Eddie; how beautiful he looked underneath Richie during their moments of passion, how his lips are always the sweetest and how his eyes are always the one that shine the brightest.  He could admit this but he still wanted Eddie to grab those ‘outs’ that he was putting out in the open.

Richie is a coward in a way that is cruel. He knows the power to end their relationship has always been in his hands. He knows this but he never could bring himself to do it. And every day, he felt more attached to Eddie and each time it just builds into something that caused an ache to his chest when he thinks about it; the extent of the destruction it would eventually bring. He left Eddie tethered on a string somewhere – like a kite that’s never gonna get flown – because he is a coward who wanted Eddie to set himself free instead. It’s cruel; the game he’s playing and he was always hoping for Eddie to wake up soon.

In a way Eddie’s 21st birthday has been a blessing. It was the trigger that woke him up. It was the ‘out’ that Richie had wanted him to take. Eddie is free, like that kite that is finally gonna roam the sky. And it will be alright, because Eddie had agreed that they’re still friends. It wasn’t a total loss because Eddie is still in his life. Right? Of course it is. This is for the best outcome for the two of them.

But why then does it feel so bad? So crushing.

Why does he feels so hollow?

 _“Isn’t this want you want Richie?”_ he finds himself asking.

_“Yes, this is what I want. This is the right thing,”_

If that’s the truth then why do Richie wants nothing more than to have Eddie in his arms right now.

*****

September ended with a sour note, and then gives way to a relatively rocky October where Richie tried to find a way to make it easier for him and Eddie to become friends again. It had been awkward; the first time they hanged out together for Ben’s birthday in San Francisco. Eddie didn’t try to hide the fact that being around his ex-boyfriend was uncomfortable for him, his eyes never quite seeing Richie when they spoke to one another, more due to Richie’s ceaseless effort to make the boy engage in conversations with him rather than Eddie’s actual desire to do so. It was so pathetic that Beverly began to soften up to the Trashmouth, her anger towards her friend ceasing as she watched his sincere effort to make Eddie his friend again. It was never quite the same, the ease they used to have with each other but at least it wasn’t truly extinct that they could no longer be in the same room. For Richie that was good enough. He didn’t lose Eddie for good. All he had in him was his willingness not to give up and a new found awareness of not feeding people’s attention to him in front of Eddie.

It is difficult because there is something about attention that just feeds on his ego, like an addiction that he can’t resist. When he has it, he would milk on it until it lost its worth, because what he has to gain from that those people are cheap affection; fast, rough and meaningless. It provides him the kind of rush he looked for when his mind needs some distraction because the perils of life just drains every inch of his will to think. Then when it comes to those people, with faces he wouldn’t be able to remember, it is like gaining access to unleash his fury without consequences. The rush never lasts longer than what it took them to attain those three seconds of pleasure. The relief often comes from him being too drained and too empty to think any further, at least for a while until it takes a hold of him again and leaves him craving for the same cheap thrill.

It’s the kind of escape that he could never unleash upon Eddie because he doesn’t deserve that; sex without the perquisite of emotion. With Eddie, when they’re together, it was always intense, almost sacred. That the end of it would sent him running most of the time because of how scared he would get at what he saw in the boy; the depth of his desire for Richie, so open for display. It was everything and always so overwhelming that he’ll spent hours replaying what they just shared together. It was another thing in his ever growing lists because with Eddie, it has always meant something more. Something more that is too massive for him to carry.

Now that they aren’t together anymore, it’s not something that he has to think about isn’t it? He should feel relieved right? Relieved like being told that the midterm test he has been stressing about would be an open book test. Only, he doesn’t feel the kind of break he has been expecting. Instead, every day he would wake up with something sitting on top of his chest and it’s annoying. He spends the day trying to figure out what is wrong with him but never got an answer. It stays with him longer than it ceases to be tolerable and it eats at his sanity because he just couldn’t figure it out.

The answer comes to him on one cold afternoon in November when he sees a blue jay around the campus. He doesn’t know why the sight of the bird held him captive, but it is just so wonderful to Richie that he feels the need to share it with someone, captioning it with _‘I feel like this bird I judging me’._

Well, Stan has always been the bird enthusiast in the group and it would have make sense for Richie to share his discovery with his best friend. But when he chooses the contact to send the message to, it is Eddie’s number that he chose. And he almost sends it out, only stopping himself at the last second because it isn’t that it is the wrong number, it is because he doesn’t have that privilege with Eddie anymore. There are boundaries now and Richie is sure Eddie wouldn’t appreciate his nonsensical messages.

The realisation hit him and Richie had sat thunderstruck with his phone dangling between his thumb and index finger. He thinks of how he could no longer be that casual with the boy he couldn’t longer call his best friend and it absolutely hurts. There was a time when he and Eddie would send endless messages to each other; about almost everything and Richie could not recall having any doubts in his head, no hesitancy like the one he had at the moment. Things have changed between them, despite Eddie’s assurance of friendship. They wold never be able to go back to that same comfortableness they used to have around each other’s presence.

Richie is so lost in his unease that the phone slips out of his grasp and lands on the floor, breaking his thought. But then he guesses the universe hated him or something, cursing him with clumsy fingers that when he goes to pick it up, the message with the blue jay accidentally got sent to Eddie. “Shit!” he curses, wanting to tear his hair off his scalp. He stares at the screen and the subsequent blue tick that appears and waits – _weirdly nervous. -_

Eddie never did reply him.

*****

“Hey Richie, you broke up with Eddie right?”

The question breaks amidst the silence in the library. It diverts Richie’s concentration and he frowns at the boy in front of him, Noah; part of his group member for Mr. Waltz’s class. The whole group are there as they again try to win the race against time to complete their final presentation for next week.

 _“He broke up with me,”_ he wants to correct him but then decides that it’s not important.

“Why?” he asks instead.

“Well, mind if I swoop in?” Noah asks bashfully.

“You’re interested in Eddie?” Richie looks at him incredulously. He would never guess that Noah would harbour some sort of crush on his ex-boyfriend.

“Sure, why not? He’s hot,” he affirms.

“You think Eddie’s hot?” Richie doesn’t understand why he’s getting agitated over this. But he does.

“Definitely. Cute face. And that ass! Whoo!” Noah whistles while the rest snickers at his statement.

Richie narrows his eyes, effectively silencing his classmates. He doesn’t like that one bit. “Don’t talk about him that way,” he says with a voice so serious that Noah visibly gulps.

“Why, you still hung up on him?” Olivia quips suddenly.

Richie glares at the girl hotly but says nothing. He reverts his attention to his laptop but could feel her eyes on him, burning his skin. Richie isn’t oblivious to Olivia’s past crush on him. In fact that was what led to their hook-up in the summer; once – _Richie was pissed off with his parents, she was willing and he needed to let his frustration out_ – it was stupid and Richie regretted it. He regretted it because she was the only hook up who properly knew about Eddie.

When he had been in the open relationship with Eddie, he always made it a rule to only hook up with total strangers. It was important to him that Eddie wasn’t in the picture for those people but he has crossed the line with Olivia. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life because he had compromised Eddie’s image _,_ as if he was the clueless guy whose boyfriend was cheating on him. It was never like that and Richie doesn’t like Olivia more than a friend.

However those thing aside, it totally takes him by surprise at how annoyed he feels about Noah’s interest at Eddie. He knows Eddie is an attractive guy, so endearingly sweet faced that he has once been the object of infatuation of one of their seniors in high school during freshmen year. But that has simply been an innocent crush. It never occurred to him however that people would see him in this light too; sexually attractive. Something that he thought was a well-kept secret that only he knows. In his eyes, Eddie has that innocence in him that hearing Noah comments so fervently about his physical attributes makes it feels like a taint to that innocence. He never thinks anyone would notice that about his ex-boyfriend but apparently they do.

 He isn’t sure he likes it.

*****

It’s the first week of December that he gets the chance to hang out with Eddie again. The two of them plus Bill and Stan have decided to have dinner before going to the movies.

“Do we have to go eat at the place I work at?” Eddie complains, while going through the menu he’s already familiar with.

“Yes, because it’s cheap and I’m tired of having to pay 15 dollars for a cup of coffee,” Stan retorts.

“Babe, you took that 15 dollars coffee everyday like an IV. You’re obsessed with them,” Bill spills, earning him a scowl from his boyfriend.

“It’s called trying to save money, Bill,” he says with a lazy tilt of his head to Bill, who then smiles at him fondly before leaning in front of him to reach his boyfriend for him a kiss on the temple.

Richie watches Eddie goes stiff beside Bill, probably from the awkwardness at their pda, he stares fixatedly on the menu, refusing to look at Richie who is sitting in front of him. Richie has also gone quiet ever since they step in the restaurant, ignoring the twinge in his chest when Eddie has quickly situates himself next to Bill, creating an instant seat arrangement where Richie ends up next to Stan.

“Urgh, you two flirt like an old couple. Am I right Eddie?,” Richie says, just something to break the awkwardness between the two of them.

Eddie seems a little bit surprise at being addressed so directly by Richie that he has this momentarily caught off guard look but he quickly recovers by clearing his throat, lifting his face to nod at Richie swiftly before turning his gaze back at the menu.

“Yup, like a bunch of grandmas,” he affirms. Richie watches Bill not so subtly exhales a relief breath at Eddie’s willingness to respond to him. _“Be cool Bill,”_ he signals, Bill catches on but just shrugs it off.

“I bet you two are super polite to each other in bed. Like, ‘Stan dear may I put it in on you’ polite,” Richie adds on, because he can’t help himself and he wants Eddie to react.

Stan snorts at that and simply rolls his eyes while Bill shakes his head a little. Richie however is only focussed on Eddie’s reaction, feeling his chest blooms when the corners of his mouth lifts upward into a smile.

“What makes you think its Bill who put things in me?” Stan says in a deadpan voice and then waves at the waitress to get their orders.

Eddie who has been sipping on the water chokes a little on that comment, blushing furiously as he wipes at his mouth while Bill is just straight up laughing, knocking his feet to reach his boyfriend’s, only to hit Richie’s instead.

“Damn! Stan my man,” Richie lifts up his hand for a high five that is instantly denied by the boy beside him so he directs it to Bill who takes his hand enthusiastically.

The waitress comes over, says hi to Eddie, and then takes their orders. It is not even 5 seconds after she left that Stan rises up abruptly from his seat, all eyes on him as he looks like he’s about to say something and he just goes, “I’m only joking, he puts it in me all the time,” he ends with a quirk of his eyebrow towards his boyfriend and then leans down to kiss him fully on the mouth before heading down the washroom.

“Oh my god, what is happening?” Eddie says, pressing his hands over his ears, cringing.

“Stanley is saying that he lets Bill dicks him all the time, Eds,” Richie says.

“Shut up Richie. I don’t need further elaboration on our friend’s sex lives,” Eddie eyes widen and they look at each other. The awkwardness between them dissipates a little. And when they smile at each other, it is one fill with comradery. To Richie, it’s like winning the lottery.

*****

It doesn’t last long though. Richie once again finds himself in the realm of reality where he founds out just how much Eddie’s existence could place an impact on someone else’s as well. They’ve just finished their dinner and about to call for the bill when a guy approaches their table with an apprehensive look on his face. He nears the table and clears his throat to signal his presence. They all look curiously at the stranger whose hand is extended towards Eddie, in it, a piece of paper.

“May I help you?” Eddie asks.

“Um, my friend over there,” the blonde haired guy says, pointing to another blonde haired guy, only with a darker shade, who upon noticing their attention to him waves jovially at Eddie, “He thinks you’re really cute. Maybe give him a call?” he adds.

“Oh,” Eddie turns beet red, takes the paper and then glances at the admirer who is standing outside the restaurant, beaming at Eddie as their eyes meet. Eddie looks away with a hint of a smile on his face as well. The friend then left with an awkward “ok bye,”

“Wow, go Eddie. He’s really hot,” Bill teases, nudging his shoulder. Eddie chuckles lightly at that and stuffs the number in his wallet.

 _“Shut up Bill,”_ Richie has the urge to say. He doesn’t know why but there is a burning in his whole body, something akin to dread at the scene that just unfolded. He hates how much he is affected by that.

“Isn’t he a little too old for you?” the question spills out of his mouth without control, making him cringes internally but Richie tries to keep his expression neutral. He sees Bill and Stan exchanging looks; not as casual as he intended then.

“What are you talking about Richie? That guy couldn’t be older than 30,” Bill says cautiously. Perhaps trying to diffuse the tension as Eddie is visibly tense, eyes narrowed at Richie.

Richie doesn’t care. The ‘cool’ train has left the station and it’s like he’s on a ride that makes him wants to shoot stupid things out of his mouth. “He looks like a working adult. Why the fuck would an adult asks a college kid out. That’s fucking creepy. You don’t know what’s in the mind of these people Eds.”

“It couldn’t be that bad. He seems nice,” Stan interjects, again perhaps for Eddie’s benefit as the boy is now flushing red, maybe from anger or embarrassment, mouth set in a tight line.

“Well, sometimes the person you thought you know disappoints you as well. So fuck that! And I’m an adult Richie. But I guess you forgot,” Eddie snaps.

The table goes silent. This is the first time that Eddie has acknowledge anything with effect of his birthday party. Bill stares between the ex-couple incredulously, mouth agape. His attempt for another discreet feet tap with his boyfriend once again misdirected to Richie. Stan stays nothing.

“Well, I just want you to be careful. Sometimes they just want to bang young meat,” Richie continues valiantly despite being a bit embarrassed at being called out.

Eddie is visibly shaking with rage. His tiny frame trembles along with his sharp intake of breath, a sign of anger that Richie hasn’t seen for a long time. He braces himself for the inevitable explosion.

However, none of that happens. Instead Eddie searches his face with eyes brimming with challenge. “I think I’m gonna give him a call,” he says simply before rising from the table and leaving a 20 dollars on the table.

Richie feels like an idiot and an asshole at the same time.

*****

The bed rocks heavily against the wall of his dorm room. Heavy rock music is playing in the background. Richie’s whole body is tense as he pounds into the body below him. The guy, who is lying on his stomach, lifts his face up and moans loudly without shame. Richie becomes absorbs into channelling all of his pent up frustrations earlier onto the willing stranger. He pushes in and pulls out with rough rhythm, almost thoughtless with his action as his mind is occupied with what had led to this hook up.

Richie and Stan were hanging around at the courtyard of the campus while waiting for their respective classes to start; Richie smoking as usual while Stan is downing a cup of the 15 dollars coffee which is the bane of his existence, because he just couldn’t quit. Then Eddie had joined them, wearing his black hooded winter jacket. He sits next to Stan – _it’s still a little tense between him and Richie_ – and pulls off his red muffler from his neck.

_“Wow, were you attack by a leech Eddie?” Stan asks, sarcastic as usual._

_“And is the leech named Chris?” he adds, arching his eyebrows suggestively._

Eddie didn’t answer him, instead he just chuckled shyly and then began wrapping the muffler around his neck once more, trying to stop more attention at the couple of red spots at the hollow of his neck.

 _“Huh, not even his favourite spot to make out on.”_ Richie had thought bitterly. He knows that it’s the spot just under his ears that could turn Eddie into a writhing mess below him. -

Chris was the name of the guy who had given Eddie’s his number. From what Stan is willing to share with him, Eddie has gone out on a couple of date with him. He’s 28 years old, and is a working adult as Richie has predicted; a manager at some Finance firm. Sounds boring but boring means in possession of an apartment – _not a lease_ – and a car. To be honest, Richie isn’t really a big fan of Eddie’s boyfriend – _Eddie’s boyfriend; the words sound wrong in his mind_ – but he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Richie grunts lowly in his throat as he feels the approach of orgasm. He increases his pace, slamming mindlessly into the guy whose voice becomes more erratic as he starts jerking himself off. Richie doesn’t pay any mind on what he chooses to do, instead he surrenders to the blinding heat pooling at the bottom of his stomach. Somehow his thought leads him to Eddie; how cute he had looked just then, with cheeks painted red from the cold, wavy brown strands peeking out from his hoodies and adorable green gloves adorned with deer shaped prints. Then he thinks of the hickeys on his neck and something snaps and he pounds into the guy even harder, gripping on his hips tightly.

“Oh fuck,” the guy screams.

“Oh, I’m coming,” he then says frantically.

Richie closes his eyes as his own orgasm hits him, blinding his vision white temporarily while he moans silently.

“Eddie.”

The name comes out of him so unexpectedly that it takes him by surprise. He quickly pulls out and step off the bed, discarding the condom before pulling on his boxer and searches for his cigarettes. He lights one up and takes a heavy drag, mind going a million miles per hour because what the fuck? What the actual fuck?

Why did he say Eddie’s name? Why was Eddie’s face that comes to his mind? Why can’t he stop thinking about Eddie? What is happening to him? First, he had been outright rude to Eddie with the whole Chris thing and then there’s this unreasonable dislike towards Eddie’s new boyfriend. Why?

“Well, this has been fun,” the stranger says, breaking Richie’s train of thought. To be honest, he kinda forget that he’s there. The stranger is already at the door, sneakers in hand, fully dressed. “That Eddie must be something huh?” he states.

Richie just shrugs his shoulder, cigarette dangling at the corner of his lips and he smiles a little at the departing red-headed guy.

“Well, goodbye. And one more thing…” he trails. Richie looks curiously at the wide grin on his face. 

“It’s Roger, bitch!” he says with an emphasis on the word bitch. Then with a flick of his head, he exits the room, leaving the dumb-founded Richie to gape at the closed door.

Richie remains static, contemplating the weirdness of the situation and the almost comedic statement from the stranger – _oh right, Roger –_ and then starts laughing. A full gut busting laughter that makes his eyes water and he clutches at his stomach as the fits of humour heightens. But then, instead of the euphoric glee that comes from an earnest laughter, he only feels hollowness in his whole body, his chest heavy with something that he can now assign a word to.

That’s right, the thing that he couldn’t quite put a finger on; its jealousy. And regret.

******

The realisation that he is jealous of Eddie’s new boyfriend sets into motion a new awareness into Richie. It made him address the depth of his affection towards his ex-boyfriend. How much he really means to him; which is so much more that he could even imagine. Now that he could admit that he is always going to have feelings towards the boy, he starts panicking at the prospect of Eddie becoming serious with Chris. And is not just a baseless deduction, its right there in front of him when Eddie brought Chris along to their weekly hangout at their favourite restaurant. Then Richie has to witness the various affections that Chris would showers his boyfriend; a careless kiss on Eddie’s hand as he becomes absorbed with telling his stories, a kiss on his cheek, just because, and lastly the deep lingering kiss he left Eddie as they say goodbye – _Chris to his apartment and Eddie with his friends back to NYU_. – And Richie breathed a little easier; Eddie wasn’t coming home with Chris.

But the fact remains; Eddie still belongs to someone else. And even if he wasn’t, Richie isn’t really sure what he would do then.

He doesn’t deserve Eddie. He’s not worthy enough for the boy who only deserves someone who could provide him with happiness. Not Richie, he has too much baggage to carry and Eddie would be better off right?

It is the night of New Year’s Eve that Richie’s resolve towards Eddie becomes more blurry. What used to be defeated resignation turns into frustration as Richie watches the couple interactions. This is a bad idea, he decides. He should have just gone out with Olivia and her friends instead of with 1/2 of the losers. Should have fought harder against his desire to see Eddie. This is torture he thinks as he will himself to focus on the other couple he knows instead. The couple who happened to be making out passionately at the other side of the booth.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he might as well talk to a wall as the couple ignores him, not hearing anything he just said, too preoccupied with each other mouths at the moment.

Richie heads to the crowded bar and manages to catch the bartender’s attention immediately. The guy winks at him and asks for his order. The old Richie would reciprocate with the same enthusiasm, but, at that moment, he just wants a drink, anything to drown out his misery. Anything to devoid his mind off Eddie. He smiles politely and orderes his drink; vodka with cranberry juice and club soda, then looks around the bar.

As much as he tries though, his vision lands only at the person he wants the most. Searching for the face that he craves to see next to him every single night, the face that keeps appearing in his dreams, promising a sea of happiness only to leave him empty as he wakes up to nothing but the memories they used to share.

_“That’s right. Memories.”_

It’s hard for him to put it into words, the aching that’s burrowing its ugly head so deep under his chest, making it numb but at the same time has taken control of his whole boy. Maybe, maybe, if it needs to be said, only for him to listens to, he’ll say that nothing hurts more than watching the hand of someone you want more than anything else in the world, letting go of yours to catch someone else’s. But here’s the thing, it wasn’t Eddie who had let go, it was him who made the decision that it would be okay if he did. Except, it isn’t okay and the proof is standing right in front of his eyes; Eddie and Chris tangled up in the middle of the dance floor, swaying delicately in time of the gentle tune.

A picture of his biggest mistake.

Richie shakes his head, willing the pathetic monologue away. He doesn’t realise that in the midst of his lament, his gaze is fixed on Eddie and Chris. He almost turned away at the tap on his shoulder from the bartender, almost. But Eddie is holding him captive, his face isnestled at the crook of Chris’s neck but his eyes are on Richie. Richie understands then why people would describe time as moving in slow motion, he feels it. And Richie sees only Eddie, _his Eddie,_ with his eyes on him, in someone else’s arms and the back of his throat burns with something that he hasn’t tasted for a long time; tears.

Is that desperation in Eddie’s eyes; the same one that hits every part of his body, the hardest in his heart, he wonders.

Then Chris is leaning back and their gaze broke. Richie brushes at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket swiftly, swallowing the hot lump in his throat. Then he watches Chris lifts Eddie’s face up and leans down to kiss him on the lips. Richie feels the exact moment when his heart breaks as Eddie smile against the older man’s mouth.

 _“It’s too late. I’m too late,”_ He takes his drink, absentmindedly leaving a tip that is higher than the cost of what he receives. But that’s all insignificant to him right now.  

Eddie is slipping further away from him every single day, every single moment he spends with Chris – _someone he could never match up to. –_ He have no one to blame but himself. He let him get away because of his own selfishness. He has no right to want Eddie back, not when Eddie has the best right in front of him and, not when he doesn’t even want him back.

Eddie follows Chris home that night and Richie’s heart breaks a little more.

*****

Bill shakes the weeping boy sleeping on the next bed. The sound of Richie’s crying have woken him up a few minutes earlier and Bill is shocked to see his friend with his eyes scrunched tightly and tears leaking down his face. He has only seen Richie cried once; the day his grandfather passed away when they were in the 9th grade. Something must have upset the Trashmouth who is now clutching desperately onto the blanket as if seeking protection from whatever monsters that is in his dream. It takes him a couple more attempts to rouse the boy to consciousness and when he manages to, Richie sits up, leans his head on the headboard and continue weeping pitifully. It scares Bill to see him that way and he feels like he should call Stan because he doesn’t know what he should do.

He nears Richie carefully, sits by his side and touches his back. Richie doesn’t acknowledge him as he hunches, places both of his elbow over his thighs to press the palm of his hands over his eyes. Bill keeps his hand on his friends back and starts rubbing it up and down, hoping to provide some comfort. His back vibrates from the grief he must be feeling and Bill is helpless. He hears Richie taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself down and then the sound of his weeping slowly decreases into whimpers and finally sniffles. The boy lifts his head up and stares at the wall in front of him, adam apple moving up and down as he tries to swallow down the last shred of tears left in his system.

Bill thinks it’s the appropriate time for him to speak. “Bad dreams?” he asks.

“No,” Richie answers, his glassy eyes still directed at the wall. Bill sees tears start to pool in his eyes once more and Richie lets them slide down his face, not attempting to hide it this time.

“You okay Richie?” Bill asks, starting to get worry.

“Do you think Eddie’s gonna end up with Chris?” Richie asks with a small voice.

The question takes Bill by surprise and it clicks to him; Richie’s incessant questions about the couple and criticism onto Chris who have been nothing but nice to them. Bill has always put it off as Richie just simply being curious, perhaps a bit protective over his ex-boyfriend. Turns out it has been something more.

“Don’t know Richie. Why do you ask?” he answers sincerely.

Richie takes a pillow and places it between his chest and raised knees, buries his face on top of it. Shoulders shaking as he pours out his grief onto the plush object.

“Richie, you know you can talk to me right?” he consoles the usually discreet boy; never the one to show his true emotion, always comfortable to hide behind his jokes and voices.

‘Bill, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have let him get away,” he weeps.

Bill look at the boy with pity, thinking of how much he wishes Richie had say this when they have the confrontation a few months ago, when he thought Richie was only using Eddie for sex. He had been furious then, partly blaming himself for not talking sense into the both of them and also from disappointment towards Richie, because how could he do that to Eddie. He understands now that it is more complicated than that. It was just like what Stan had said to him, when he followed him to the bathroom later, that they don’t really know what goes on in Richie’s head and should give him time.

“I’m sorry man,” Bill offers.

“I’m losing him am I?” Richie asks, not looking for answer but affirmation.

The truth is Bill doesn’t know. Eddie never really talks about his relationship with Chris, only offering generic details when asked. He doesn’t think that Eddie feels the same about Chris the way he feels about Richie. He just has this feeling in his gut, call it his instinct. It’s the little things that he notices since Eddie started to bring his boyfriend along to their hangout. Like how Eddie never flusters when Chris would give him a kiss so unexpectedly in the middle of a conversation – _whereas a kiss from Richie would usually leave Eddie a stuttering mess_ – and how Eddie almost always seem a bit nonchalant when Chris would compliments him, - _meanwhile Bill has witnessed Richie telling Eddie that he looked delicious like a chocolate chip cookie one day and the smaller boy literally couldn’t stop smiling._ -Then there is the most telling part; Eddie not having that sparks in his eyes when he looks at Chris the way he used to look at Richie. Eddie would always look at Richie as if he’s trying to memorize every part of his features in his mind, a love struck kind of look that makes Bill only hoping to be able portray in his writings but is so difficult to do so. In the simplest term, he could only describe it as Eddie looks at Richie as if he’s the only person that existed in this world. Heartbreakingly endearing at the time as Richie never seemed to notice.

It is Chris that appears to be smitten, not Eddie. But then again he would never tell Richie that, fearing that it would only provide false hope to the boy.  

“Maybe you should talk to him. Have an honest conversation,” Bill suggests.

“And talk about what Bill? That I want him back? That I can’t stand another seconds without hearing his voice?” Richie spits in frustration.

“Yeah. Why not? You got nothing to lose” Bill says, really meaning it. Richie looks at him sceptically but there’s some sort of interest there.

“Look, I’m not saying that it would bring the two of you together and that’s not even the whole point. But maybe you’ll feel better if you tell him how you really feel? At least you don’t have to keep wondering about it.” Bill continues.

Richie gives him a meaningful stare, really taking in his suggestion it appears. Then he nods his head, “Okay, I’ll do it,” he says determinedly.

“Great. Not now though. Eddie would kill you if you wake him up at this time.” Bill says, remembering how much his friend values his sleep.

“Yeah. He loves sleeping,” Richie smiles fondly. “Hey, thanks Bill. I really needed that,” he says as he grips his forearm tightly.

Bill looks at Richie, seeming so young without his glasses and somewhat innocent; Bill then smiles and open up his arms wide. “Come on man, bring it in,” he offers gleefully.

Richie takes up his offer, launching himself in front of Bill and wrapping his arms under his shoulder. Their hug stays longer than usual, Bill is just happy that he can provide a bit of comfort to his friend and he knows that Richie appreciates it from the way he holds on tightly to him. All he can do is hug this boy and give him time.

“Are you as turn on as I am right now?” And, the peace is shattered. Bill shoves playfully at Richie, who is laughing while falling off the bed.

“Shut up asshole. Go to sleep.” Bill rolls his eyes.

“Ooh, didn’t know you like it rough Billiam,” Richie teases.

And Bill lets him have it, this brief moment of joy.

*****

Richie stands nervously outside of Eddie’s and Stan’s dorm room. He raps his knuckles against the wooden door, the sound of his heartbeats amplifying in his ears as he waits for Eddie to answer. Stan had told him that Eddie is in their room, have been in there since this afternoon.

 When Eddie opens the door, Richie losses his ability to talk, something that rarely happens. The reality of what he is about to do comes to him in one strong force that he has half a mind to run away, like the coward he is. He could tell that Eddie isn’t expecting to see him there, just by the instant widening of his already big eyes but then he quickly fixes his expression.

“Oh, hi Richie. Stan isn’t here. He went out on a date with Bill,” Eddie says.

Richie ignores the pang of sadness at Eddie’s statement as if Richie doesn’t want anything to do with him now that they aren’t dating.

“I’m actually looking for you,” he says and Eddie looks confused.

“Me? Oh, ok. Come in,” he offers hesitantly, stepping away from the doorway to let Richie in.

Richie steps into the room that he hasn’t visited for months. The room where Eddie has ended things between them and flashes of what happened played in front of his eyes; Eddie telling him that they should break up, his tears and their last kiss. What a fucking mess.

“Um, do you want anything to drink?” Eddie says, pointing at the mini fridge at the corner of the room. He usually has a stock of juice pouches that he likes; usually orange flavoured, and kit kats.

“It’s okay,” Richie declines and stop at the side of Stan’s bed. “Actually I was hoping that we could talk.” He confesses.

Eddie looks taken aback at that and he is quiet. It makes him nervous as he waits for the boy’s consent.

_“What if he says no?”_

“Okay. What about?” Eddie asks. He pulls out his study chair and sits facing Richie. Then he points at Stan’s bed, asking him to do the same.

Richie complies and takes his time to run it through his head what he wants to say to Eddie. There is so much that he wants to tell the boy but the most important thing is honesty. Yeah, let’s start with that.

“I never did apologize to you for how I treated you when we were dating,” Richie blurts out. He regrets it instantly as Eddie’s face darkens.

“You don’t have to. It’s over now,” Eddie answers emotionlessly.

Richie swallows nervously, already dreading the sign of things that would go wrong.

 _“Honesty.”_ He reminds himself.

“I have to Eddie. I was horrible to you. Flirting with those people in front of you and sleeping with them…”

“You did nothing wrong. It was an open relationship anyway,” Eddie cuts in; again with that emotionless tone that makes Richie feels so small.

“Eddie, please, I have to do this,” Richie pleads. He feels the tell-tale sign of tears behind his eyes, have been doing a lot of it lately and he tries to ignore it.

Eddie nods his head stiffly and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“I can’t imagine what that did to you. I was so fucking selfish. I’m so sorry Eddie. I really am,” he says, so full with regret. His eyes are brimming with tears now. He notices the change in Eddie’s posture, arms moving as if he wants to hug Richie but then changing his mind at the last minute, by gripping onto the fabric on his knees.

“Richie,” Eddie says his name.

Richie swipes at his eyes, embarrassed but continues, “I’ve been thinking about it ever since you broke up with me and if the tables were turned and you were the one who’s sleeping around, I don’t think I would have stayed as long as you did.”

Eddie shifts his gaze thoughtfully on the floor, and then bites his lips. “Maybe I have been doing the same thing that you did,” he says.

Richie looks at his cloudy face and decides that he’s bluffing. No, he knows it. “But you didn’t. You never did.”

The drop of his shoulders affirms the truth to Richie. “I didn’t.” Eddie whispers.

“Why?” Richie couldn’t help but ask.

Eddie frowns. The question seems to offend him. “What do you mean why?” he snaps.

Richie decides to just dive right in. “Eddie, do you still have feelings for me?”

“What? What are you talking about Richie?” he asks in agitation.

“Because I do. I want you back. God, Eddie, you have no idea how much I miss you. I shouldn’t have let you go. I have no idea how much you actually means to me. I was afraid, of committing myself. You know how my parents are, so I made myself blind to how much you care about me. I pretended like what I did didn’t hurt you. But I’ve always known that it did and still I didn’t try to change.”

“Richie, stop!” Eddie says, his voice rising slightly.

He couldn’t, he just wants to tell him everything that he feels. He needs to know. “There’s no excuse for what I did and I understand if you hate me. But I just want you to know that you’re the only person I thinks about, all the time. Eddie, if you still feel something for me, anything, please, give me a chance and I promise I’ll do better.” Richie is full on pleading now, doesn’t care too much about his dignity anymore. Not when this feels like the last shred of opportunity he has to get Eddie back.

“Richie, what are you doing? Why are you telling me this now?” Eddie stands on his feet, clenching his knuckles tightly until it turns white.

“I’m asking for a second chance. Please,” Richie begs.

“No.” Eddie says. It sends Richie spiralling inside. He feels like collapsing on the floor.  

_“Say yes.”_

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, and then pulls up the neck of his t-shirt to cover his face. He bursts into tears. “No, I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t, I can’t,” he shakes his head resolutely, his voice breaking.

“Eddie…” Richie wants nothing more than to hug him, to tell him that it’s alright but he stays at where he is standing, aware of his limitation, more so after Eddie’s rejection. Instead he just watches at Eddie as he cries, heart breaking at the realization of how much pain he is constantly causing him. He doesn’t deserve him. The best thing to do is to close this chapter and give Eddie the chance to move on. He deserves it; a life without Richie.

“I’m sorry Eddie. For everything.”

*****

A month passes and Richie has cut down any attempt to communicate with Eddie. He wants to stay true to his resolution, let Eddie move on with his life. Bill and Stan try to convince him not to go through such length. They try to convince him that Eddie wouldn’t want him out of his life completely because they’re still friends; even the other losers try to talk some sense into him. However, Richie wouldn’t budge. Because how could he when he couldn’t imagine facing Eddie after what had happened.

He wonders how he is through Eddie’s eyes. How pathetic he was, only he doesn’t regret baring himself open in front of Eddie. The only thing he regrets is making Eddie cried. He hates himself for that because who knows how many times Eddie had cried without him knowing about it. How many times have Eddie cried because he was a selfish asshole that didn’t know the meaning of love even though it has been standing in front of him all along. All because of the promise he had made when he was 16; just because his parents were terrible people. He shouldn’t have been too quick to base the rest of his lives on his parent’s shortcomings. At the end of the day, they were only human, no matter how much their actions had hurt him.

But it’s too late; it had cost him Eddie.

Nowadays, he spends most of his time in his room, doing his assignments and sometimes just lying on his bed listening to music. The only thing that would make him go out willing would be his classes, his shifts at the radio station and to get food. He chooses that to avoid any chances of running into Eddie. He doesn’t think he can handle it well if they met and all he receives from Eddie is radio silence. It’s better to imagine it than having it actually happening. Besides, there’s only 6 months left in the semester and then he’ll be off to California, or, maybe Derry first, depends. He had return to Derry a few weeks ago to force his mother to enrol into a rehab centre for alcoholism. With the help of Mike, they have driven her to the facility outside of town where she is expected to spend 3 months there. She only agreed to go when Richie threatened not to see her anymore if she refuses. Then after sorting out his mum, he had made a call to Wentworth where he basically spent the entire 15 minutes screaming and cursing at him to stop bullying Maggie. Last he checked, the monthly cheques remained the same amount and it put an ease on his mind. There’s no salvaging his relationship with his dad but Richie doesn’t care anymore. It’s not as important to him as it was before. All he cares about is for Wentworth to do what’s right with Maggie because he was the one who made her that way.

6 more months and its goodbye to NYU, and Eddie.

*****

Richie grumbles as he is literally being forced against his will for a dinner with Bill and Stan at the restaurant where Eddie works. He finally agreed when Stan had played the ‘iou’ card with him, reminding him of the time when he had helped him carry parts of his self-assembled book shelf from Ikea. And also, according to Stan, Eddie is not working tonight. His drags his feet as he walks behind the couple, who are holding hands as usual. Richie couldn’t be mad at them though, he knows they’re only doing this because they are worried of how much of a recluse Richie had become. He feels a sudden rush of fondness at his friends, making him walk a little faster to break up their linked hands and situates himself in the middle just to annoy them; because that’s how the Trashmouth shows affection.

They get to the restaurant and are placed at a table next to the window where they can see the brightly lit sidewalks for the upcoming Valentine’s Day celebration. They make their order and then continue their conversation, the couple mostly, gushing about their plan for a romantic weekend at Bill’s family cabin in the woods. They then becomes absorbed into a heated debate about the movie ‘cabin in the woods’ with Richie advocating the probability of some secret society that guards the world from the underworld while Bill is against the whole premise because _“Richie, that is just absolutely preposterous_ ,” and Richie knows Bill is into it when the big words start to come out. Stan just sits next to Bill, paying no mind to their pointless debate.

“Hey guys,” someone interrupts, turning their attention to new comer. It is Chris, holding a bouquet of roses in his hand, in a black fitted suit.

“Hi. You alone?” Stan asks, shooting guilty glances at Richie because if Chris is here then there’s the probability of Eddie being there as well.

“No, but I’m meeting Eddie here in 15 minutes.” He says rather distractedly.

Bill invites him to sit down but he declines. They all watch as he walks to the door, peers outside and returns to the table again.

Then without an invitation this time, he plops on the chair at the head of the table. “Ok, I’m about to do something here,” he says.

“What is…” the words die down in Bill’s mouth as Chris’s produces a ring box from his suit pocket. They stare in wonderment as he opens it to reveal simple golden band. Richie is speechless.

“I’m gonna ask Eddie to marry me,” he announces, looking more nervous than excited.

Richie feels like he can’t breathe. Bill and Stan are looking at each other in alarm. Chris is probably too preoccupied with the bigger question that he is about to ask later than to notice the lack of excitement from the table.

_“No, not this.”_

Then as if he’s on auto pilot, Richie rises up and then steps around the table.

“I have to go,” he says.

Bill and Stan don’t try to stop him.

*****

Richie let his feet carry him as he tries to process the reality that in less than 30 minutes, Eddie would be someone’s fiancé. He wanders thoughtlessly, bumping into people, getting cursed in the process because he can’t seem to centre his head properly. He hates it but at the same time is so helpless to do anything about it. Isn’t this what he tells himself to do? To let Eddie move on.

Except it had been a lie, the answers is always Eddie. He wants Eddie.

But he can’t have him, because Eddie is going to marry Chris and they are going to start a family because that’s the kind of life the Eddie should have. A life that includes a house in the suburb and kids; a pair, boy and girl. - Richie couldn’t admit that it is the life that he has pictured for the two of them.

His feet finally carries him to the Hudson River, the place where he and Eddie had their first date. It’s like his body is performing self-sabotage. Richie has no choice but to sit at the sidewalk, hiding his face from view to cry silently.

*****

Richie ignores his vibrating phone for the 4th time, the missed calls alternate between Stan and Bill’s. He doesn’t want to hear about the news; that Eddie is engaged. Doesn’t want to see pictures of the happy couple in social media. He’ll deal with it tomorrow or the day after, whatever it is, it won’t be tonight. So he pays for the 150 dollars for a one night stay at the shitty hotel in Brooklyn. He needs an escape so without much thinking has walked to the subway and hops in a train to where he is at the moment.

He feels like he’s in a different realm of space, so far removed from NYU as he slips under the cover over the cold bed. Almost as if this is a parallel universe where things isn’t as bad and maybe if he wakes up, he’ll wake up to a different reality where maybe he doesn’t know someone named Eddie.

He hopes for too much sometimes.

*****

His stay in Brooklyn extends to 2 nights because he just couldn’t bring himself to get up from the bed and face his life. And hey, he does have an extra 150 dollars lying around – _no he doesn’t, probably have to scrape at his savings to make up the difference in his money for the upcoming weeks_ – and the hotel despite its shortcoming _\- heater stops working at some point but at least the breakfast was great -_ provides sanctuary for him and nobody asks him why he’s wearing the same outfit two days in a row.

Now he is back at his dorm building in NYU and he feels miserable. His room is empty when he gets there, makes sense as Bill is probably attending classes. He has one actually but decides to skip. He strolls lazily to the bathroom and take his time in cleaning himself. After the shower, he puts on his clean clothes and lay down on the bed, sighing contently as his head sinks snuggly into the pillow.

Nothing feels quite like your own bed…

 

“Richie, wake up. Richie!”

Richie blinks his eyes open, groggily staring the blurred figures hunched over above him. He finds his glasses being handed to him and then a hit on his shoulder.

“Where have you been, you idiot?” Stan yells. “We thought you were dead,” he says, this time with less harshness.

Richie sits up, “I’m sorry Stanley. I was in Brooklyn,” he tells his best friend.

“Brooklyn? What were you doing in Brooklyn?” he asks exasperatedly.

“Escaping my life,” Richie admits.

Stan’s eyes soften at that and he sighs. “You are so exhausting to deal with sometimes. Honestly,”

“Sorry,” Richie apologises, genuinely regret at making him worried. “But you know, I just have to.”

“Richie, Eddie says no,” Stan says.

“What?” Richie asks, seeking confirmation because this just can’t be true right?

“He says no. To Chris. They broke up that night.” Stan elaborates.

Richie doesn’t wait for another second; he just bolts straight to the door.

*****

He should probably think this through. What if Eddie isn’t in the room? What would he say if he is in the room? But there’s no time to reconsider now as he is outside and knocking urgently on the door. The moment Eddie appears behind the door, in his white t-shirt and loose boxer, hair dishevelled and eyes swollen with faint dark circle under his eyes, Richie doesn’t think that Eddie has ever look this beautiful. So beautiful that it makes him lose his mind and he blurts out the first thing he can think of without much tact.

“You said no.”

Eddie frowns at him, annoyed. “What? What do you want Richie?” he voice is harsh but Richie couldn’t be bothered about it.

“I want you,”

“You want me to what?” he asks.

“You, Eddie, I want you,” Richie says desperately.

The bespectacled boy wishes to rewind time as Eddie’s eyes harden into glares. “Oh fuck off Richie!” he yells, face showing ultimate anger. Then he grabs Richie by the forearm aggressively, shoves him outside the hallway and slams the door right in his face.

Richie flinches at the loud slamming and swallows thickly at the crushing tension in his chest, feeling dejected. Maybe this isn’t the best way to address this. Why is he always like this? Always putting his foot in his mouth? It’s just that hearing those words from Stan, _\- the ‘no’ from Eddie_ – makes him sees a world of possibilities; he just had this urgency that pressures him to take action before a chance like this ceases to exist.

But it never matter isn’t it? It isn’t Chris that he needs to worry about. It’s Eddie. He doesn’t want him back. Richie is not in the equation any longer; Eddie has cancelled him out and it’s his own doing. Now that world of possibilities shrink and Richie could only see that future without Eddie in it.

How would he carry on after this?

_“Eddie, open the door, please.”_

_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

The door stays close and Richie stands defeated with those voices echoing loudly in his mind. He is tempted to knock on the door, to beg Eddie to listens, to plead his case, but something tells him that would be to overstep his boundaries. Then he bows his head down; let his tears trail down his cheeks. In the silence, Richie could almost make out the thin sounds as they hit the cement floor. Reluctantly he begins stepping away from the object that’s concealing him from the person that holds the most significance in his life. The person who before wouldn’t hesitate to take his hands and make him his world as well. Of course he had to ruin it. Of course he had to be selfish and ungrateful. Of course he had to take Eddie Kaspbrak for granted. Richie decides that there’s nobody else he hated more than himself.

Richie is 2 doors away from where he initially stands, almost at the staircase when there’s a sound of a door being yanked open. He swivels his head to the sound in expectance, mouth parting slightly at the sight of a red-faced Eddie, standing in the hallway. He looks like he’s having one of his asthma attack and Richie immediately worries. He is about to open his mouth, to ask whether he needs some help when the smaller boy starts into a run. Richie spins his body towards the incoming boy, not knowing how to react. He opens his arms wide, unsure whether Eddie wants to come at him with an attack or an embrace – _God how he hopes for the last one._ –

What he receives is something else. Infinitely better than what his mind could even begin to thinks off. Eddie doesn’t give himself anytime to stop, instead he leaps into Richie, then like an octopus; wraps his arms around his neck and circles his legs around his waist. Richie who is taken by surprise almost loses his balance but thankfully, the force has shoved his sideways, with his back presses firmly on the red bricked wall enabling him to support his ex-boyfriend.

“Edd…” the words stay in his mouth as Eddie crashes his lips onto his, kissing him hungrily that it stuns Richie who could only acknowledge the force of Eddie’s firm grip on the back and the front of his t-shirt. By pure instinct, he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and begins kissing him with the same fervour; slotting his lips just right that it makes their kiss feels like something that is made out of this world. Eddie tastes the same; just like how he remembers it.

_“Is this really happening?”_

_“God, I don’t want this to ever stop.”_

He hears chuckles around them. Somebody exclaiming ‘dude’. But if Eddie doesn’t care, so does he, because it’s Eddie’s rule now. He’s the one who gets to decide. And Richie would do anything.

Finally, they part. Well it is Eddie that stops the kiss, leaning his forehead on top of Richie’s head. He’s out of breath, - _both of them are_ – fanning hot puffs of air against the latter’s forehead. Eddie then leans back and looks down at Richie, his gaze carrying so much emotion that couldn’t be said in the hallway; their peers starting to arrive from their respective classes. Some are looking at them weirdly, – _probably_ _because they look like the gay version of The Notebook movie poster_ – while some are covering their mouth behind their hands with eyes disappearing into their cheeks from hiding their smiles. Then there are those who look on with disinterest – _too much deadlines that it sucks their will to live a little, so who cares about those two idiots tangled up in each other arms._ –

Richie takes in the almost crowded hallway and looks back up to Eddie and it goes without saying – _a nod from the boy he’s carrying_ \- that they should take this to the room. And he shuffles them both, staying exactly that way until the door finally closes behind them, cutting down the bustles of college students outside and immersing into the sound of the gentle flow of waterfalls from the white noise machine on Eddie’s bedside table. Richie lowers Eddie down to the bed where the smaller boy immediately pulls him on top of him to capture his mouth once more. Richie leans down his head to meet Eddie’s lips, each of his hands placed next to his head and he kisses the boy that he has been yearning for.

If this is a dream, then he wishes to never wake up from it.

But it is not a dream. The realness of it all makes Richie moves his hand delicately on the side of Eddie’s face; fingers extending to caress his soft hair. He slides his free hand under his waist and sits up, moving Eddie with him. Richie leans his back on the headboard and then arranges for Eddie to settle on his lap with legs circling his waist, never breaking their kiss.

It is Eddie that stops the kiss again. His open mouth hovers over Richie’s as he takes deep breaths as compensation. Richie is afraid to speak, afraid to ruin this moment. Afraid that Eddie will change his mind.

His doubts must have been showing on his face as Eddie cups his face gently with a soft smile; radiating his entire features. There’s tears brimming at the waterline of his eyes and Richie feels his chest clenches.

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” Eddie asks through trembling lips, breaking the silence.

 “I just found out today, about your breakup with Chris. I thought I’m gonna come back with you being his fiancé,” Richie confesses, feeling the beginning of heaviness in his eyes as well.

“I thought you were gonna marry him. And I just didn’t know what to do,” he adds and he lets it show; the accumulation of previous days worries and anxieties through the relieved tears in full display for Eddie to see. It’s the only way he knows how to convey the full spectrum of his emotions to Eddie. Words are never going to be enough to translate his regret over what he did to the boy.

However, what does this even mean though? Does this mean Eddie wants him back or is this just another goodbye? Another means to tie loose ends?

“It was never serious. I mean with Chris. I didn’t know that he felt that way and it was horrible Richie, having to break his heart,” Eddie pauses. Then he takes Richie’s hand and kisses the top of it, “When he proposed to me, all I can think about is you,” he continues. Richie is touched by the confession and he feels so unworthy of it all.

“I thought about you the entirety of our relationship. So please, if you don’t mean what you say, about wanting a second chance, tell me now so that I can try to really move on. Please.” Eddie pleads, looking so young, scared and hopeful; all at the same time through Richie’s eyes.

“God, Eddie. What I wouldn’t do for a second chance with you. I’m sorry for everything. For taking you for granted, for making you feel as if you don’t matter. Because you do, a lot. I was just a fucking asshole who is so scared all the time,” Richie spills the truth that he should have said a long time ago.

“Please, give me a second chance. I’ll do better, I promise,” Richie starts sobbing, unable to contain it anymore; the desperation to be able to call Eddie his one more time.

“You really mean that?” Eddie asks, a trace of hope clear in his voice; always with that hint of innocence.

“Yes, if you’re willing to,” Richie confirms.

“Yes.” Eddie’s reply is definitive. As well as the soft touch of his fingers on Richie’s cheeks to brush away his tears. It is a side of Richie that is rarely shown to the world. It’s almost strange how the tables have turned; with Richie baring his emotions in open display.

Once Richie has calm down a little, Eddie wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, leaning his right temple at the side of Richie’s head, effectively bringing into the latter’s mind of the countless times they have been in this same pose. Except before he never thought too much of it. Now, it is everything to him and he mentally slaps himself for not appreciating this more.

“No more sleeping around,” Eddie starts. He leans back and stares meaningfully into Richie’s eyes.

“I won’t Eds,” Richie agrees. He notices Eddie’s little smile at the mention of the nickname that he would usually claims to hate a lot.

“And, no more taking other people’s number,” Eddie tears up, taking Richie’s face with his hands.

“I’ll feed them to the dogs,” Richie’s voice breaks as he squeezes Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t feed them to the dogs. They’ll get sick,” Eddie scowls at him and then leans his face down for a brief peck on Richie’s lips.

“Tell me what to do Eds. I’ll do anything. I’ll swallow them if you want me to,” Richie means it; so earnest that Eddie sighs fondly.

“You’re just gonna remember through osmosis then. Just throw them away,” Eddie says exasperatedly.

“Or I just point to the cutest guy in the room and tell them that I have a boyfriend?”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Then Richie decides that he doesn’t want to waste any more time. So he moves until his lips touch Eddie’s, the smaller boy gasping a little but he returns his kiss with equal pace and passion. His fingers grip at the hair on the back of Richie’s head and they melt into the embrace, slotting angles within their bodies to fit perfectly the way it used to. Richie can’t describe just how good Eddie tastes, how right he feels against him.

They get so into making out that the open door fails to take their notice. That is until he hears a groan that makes them part, only lips though as their limbs stay attached to one another; Eddie’s still on his laps with swollen lips and huffy chest. Richie finds it difficult to look away.

“Oh God, not this again,” Richie turns his eyes away at Stan’s familiar voice. While his voice sounds annoyed, his face however shows only happiness for his two friends.

He beams widely at his best friend who is carrying a plastic of take outs and Bill’s back pack. He assumes that the other boy would be showing up soon as the plastic comes from his favourite fast food restaurant.

“Does this mean I’m staying in your room tonight? Richie, you know Bill snores,” Stan mock complains, just to tease their friends.

Richie turns his attention back to Eddie, who is blushing and it almost makes him shy as well.

“No, he’s sleeping in his own room tonight,” Eddie decides.

For once in his life, Richie doesn’t mind letting someone else sets the pace. 

*****

“Ouch, that hurts,” Richie hisses as Eddie dabs the disinfectant cotton square over the scrapes along his left knee; the minor injuries he sustained after falling down the stairs of the courtyards in front of their dorm.

“That’s what you get. How many times do I have to remind you not to look at your phone while walking down the stairs?” Eddie scowls.

“Sorry Eds,” Richie says, scrunching his face adoringly.

“It’s like you want to get hurt,” Eddie say, shaking his head in frustration as he continues working on cleaning the wound.

Richie says nothing; instead he focuses on the boy bent down in front of him. His boyfriend, frowning in concentration and his chest blooms with affection.

_“I can’t believe I almost let you go.”_

“Hey Eds,” Richie calls.

“What?” Eddie replies, shifting his narrowed eyes upwards.

Again, Richie says nothing. Instead he thumbs Eddie’s chin up and then kisses him on the forehead. Richie beams at him after letting go; smiling wider at the perplexed look on his boyfriend’s face. A look which is then quickly taken over by his initial annoyance at Richie’s carelessness as he concentrates back on the wound on Richie’s knee, tearing open the band aid with slightly jittery fingers. Richie doesn’t miss the redness appearing on his cheeks and the slight turn upwards at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

And he almost says it; those precious 3 words, that’s been lingering in his mind ever since they got back together 3 months ago.

_“I love you.”_

He wants to say it but then he looks around the room, at the room he and Bill share; clothes pile around the room carelessly and at his own half-made bed that Eddie would surely lectures him about after this. No, this is not the place to say it. He wants it to be perfect because Eddie is that perfect someone who deserves only his best efforts.

As Richie gazes down at his boyfriend, at the boy whose presence means the world to him - _the love of his life -_ he decides tonight, he’s going to say it tonight.

“Hey Eds, what do you say about date night at that new Italian restaurant?” Richie asks.

“The place with the 20 dollars soup? Pass.” Eddie replies, making a face.

“Come on, it’s my treat,” Richie presses.

“Why?” Eddie looks at him quizzically.

“Damnit Eddie! Can’t a man just take his guy out to a fancy restaurant without any reasons?” Richie is frustrated.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “He can. But his guy wants to go to a cheaper place if he doesn’t mind,”

“Fine. Where?” Richie relents.

“What about take away Subway next to the Hudson river?” Eddie suggests shyly. Richie remembers why, it’s where they have their first date.

“It’s a date then.” Richie exclaims, pulling Eddie up to his lap and then lay them both down the bed; Eddie on top of him. Eddie then moves so that they’re lying on their sides, facing each other. Richie reaches for the stray wavy strands that obscure the edge of his eyes, brushing them away until nothing blocks his view anymore. He strokes Eddie’s cheek and watches as his eyes soften.

He never thought this is how they will end up, 3 months before they’re about to graduate, together. The old Richie would have scoffed at this, in disbelief, because why would he lower his guard down and commit to a relationship. But the old him was always scared, a cynic who was afraid of getting his heart broken. He was the one who would say that it’s better to be the one to leave than the one being left.

Now, as he stares in the eyes of the boy next to him, at the light freckles spread across his nose, Richie is thankful that he has taken that leap of faith and lowers his guard down. Because if he hasn’t, then there wouldn’t be any of this; him lying on the bed, on one late Tuesday afternoon, next to a boy with a face that says forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is so much more I want to do with this story but there's so little words that I know *sigh*.
> 
> Thank you for all of your comments and kudos for the previous chapter. It meant a lot ^.^
> 
> Thanks for reading this and please let me know what you think, Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> This will be split up into 2 parts and Richie's part will be uploaded soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think ^.^


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